Mile High
by JamiW
Summary: Tenth in the "Free" series - follow-up to Marco Polo.  Casefile with BA, MC, RR, Lupo/Rubirosa...and I reserve the right to throw others into this world at any time.
1. Chapter 1

**Alex POV**

* * *

For two straight weeks, things were quiet.

No one was kidnapped. No one shot at any of us. No one threatened any of us. And there were no trips to the emergency room.

It had to be some kind of record.

For thirteen days in a row, we'd worked on consults and cold cases, courtesy of MCS and the 2-7.

We'd expected that Ross would want to use us, but it seemed that Lt. Van Buren was a fan of ours now, too.

Apparently, Bernard and Lupo had sung our praises to her, so she was filing the paperwork to throw cases our way any time that she could.

Our meeting with Ross had taken both Bobby and me by surprise. The commissioner wanted to make us both captains.

I never thought I'd see the day.

I mean, at one time I had thought that I might get the nod, but I never thought that the brass would recognize Bobby for his skills.

Crime-solving, sure. Everyone knew that he was great at that, but most people didn't consider that he had any leadership skills.

Which was crazy, really. He was organized, open-minded, and inspired loyalty, all of which were characteristics of a good leader.

And it was tempting to accept the offer. Because I'd love to see Bobby shine in that position.

It would be a lovely fuck-you to everyone who had ever doubted him, my father included.

But despite that intriguing pull, we respectfully declined.

We were happy right where we were.

And Ross' suggestion to the commissioner to contract out more consulting work meant more work for the business, so we currently had more than we could handle. We were actually able to pick and choose a little more carefully.

Mike and Carolyn hadn't left for their honeymoon yet.

Even though they'd planned to go sooner, it took Mike longer than expected to fully recover from his head trauma. He'd experienced painful headaches for nearly a week after the incident in Steve-O's, and he'd had considerable nausea and dizziness in association with that, so they'd postponed it.

Now their plan was to leave for Rio on Monday, two days from now.

Carolyn had come into the office every day, but Mike was hit and miss while he tried to recover. He'd worked from home a lot, and still managed to get quite a bit done.

"I'm going to be heading out in a few minutes," Bobby said to me as he came into the kitchen.

I was pouring myself a glass of wine, preparing to kick back and relax for the evening. Carolyn and Liz were both coming over, and possibly Cathy as well. My sister had been noncommittal when I'd invited her, so I figured that it depended on whether or not her new Mr. Wonderful allowed her to come.

"How much money do you have?" I asked him as I turned around to look at him.

And for some reason, my breath caught at the sight of him. I mean, he's a good looking man. I'm not going to lie and say that I didn't recognize that fact the very first time that I saw him.

Of _course_ I recognized it.

And over the years, the more I got to know him, the more attractive he became to me because it wasn't just about physical beauty. It was about who he was on the inside.

And as far as I'm concerned, he's a gorgeous man, inside and out.

But from time to time, the realization of that hits me really hard.

So when I turned to look at him, and found him standing there in snug-fitting faded jeans and a plain black t-shirt and his camel-colored suede jacket…well, let's just say that I wanted to have him blow off this whole poker night so that I could spend the next four or five hours just worshipping every inch of him.

"We set a limit," he replied, apparently unaware of his effect on me. "A hundred bucks."

I continued to stare at him, mentally stripping him down and…

"Alex?"

"Yeah, sorry," I said with a shake of my head.

_What has gotten into me_? It's not like I hadn't just seen him naked only an hour ago.

And not just _seen_ him naked, but _enjoyed_ him naked.

Thoroughly.

But for some reason, I seemed to have a one track mind tonight.

"A hundred dollar limit? Good, so John won't break you guys," I teased, forcing myself to pay attention to the conversation.

Strathmore had been released from the hospital after a two-night stay, and was recovering nicely from the gunshot wound he'd received courtesy of Rhonda Hagen. The bullet had fractured his collarbone, so he still had a sling on his right arm to keep the area immobilized, but other than that he said he felt back to normal.

Better than normal, he'd said.

I think connecting with Mike had immeasurably made his life better.

And John wasn't just focused on Mike. He'd made it a point to connect with Bobby as well. All of us, really.

He'd gone back to Atlantic City after being released from the hospital, but I'd seen him several times over the past two weeks, and I loved that he was making such an effort to be involved in Mike's life.

The poker game that was originally scheduled for the Saturday following the bust had been postponed until tonight. Mike hadn't been ready to be out so soon, and neither was John, so Lewis said that he'd put it off for two weeks.

I think he just had another date with Erica, but I didn't call him out on it.

Although I did make a mental note to take a stroll through her department sometime soon. Maybe take her a cup of coffee and have a nice little girl chat.

I can't help it. I'm a curious person, and I care a lot about Lewis, so I wanted to hear how she felt about what was going on between them.

"Your dad wanted to make it two hundred, but Sean talked him down," Bobby said with a grin as I stepped closer to him and put my arms around him. I put my face against his chest and inhaled deeply.

He smelled _so_ good.

"My dad talks a big game, but…"

"I know. Sean told me how he likes to go all in."

"What else did Sean tell you?" I asked, my interest piqued since Bobby had quoted Sean twice in as many sentences.

I knew that my brother liked Bobby a lot. In fact, he was probably the only one in my family who had supported my decisions all along.

But Sean also liked to rib me mercilessly, and I was suddenly a little nervous about Bobby spending several hours with the men in my family.

"He just said that he couldn't wait to tell me some stories," Bobby teased.

"Oh, that's just great," I mumbled.

But I couldn't muster enough outrage to actually pull away from Bobby. It felt too good just holding him.

He had his arms around me, one hand idly rubbing up and down my back.

And then he slipped his hand into the back of my jeans, squeezing my butt and pulling me tighter up against him.

"It _is_ great," he agreed, his voice a hushed whisper against the top of my head. "I can't wait to hear all about my wild little Eames."

I chuckled against him, glad that whatever the reason, he was looking forward to spending time with my family.

A knock on the door forced me to finally let him go, but I couldn't resist running my hand over his butt when he turned around to answer the door.

"Don't have too much to drink tonight," I warned him. He cast a glance over his shoulder and gave me a questioning eyebrow. "I don't want you to have any equipment issues that might hamper your encore performance tonight."

"Equipment issues?" he asked.

He turned quickly and came back to me, picking me up and holding me firmly against the side of the refrigerator. He kissed me hard, and the arousal that had been lingering in me for the past several minutes went from mild to insistent in about three seconds.

"When have you ever known me to have equipment issues?" he asked, his voice a low seductive growl.

"Come on, Goren!" Mike shouted from the other side of the door.

"In a minute!" Bobby yelled back, but he made no move to step away from me.

Instead, he pushed harder against me creating a need-inspiring pressure that added fuel to my already raging fire.

"Never," I admitted breathlessly while Bobby proceeded to move his lips over my neck. "And you'd better not start tonight."

"I'll be home by one," he promised. "And you will…"

"Have everyone cleared out before then," I finished with a smile.

"Goren! Open the damn door!"

"You think that blow to the head caused him to lose the censor between his brain and his mouth?" I asked smartly as Bobby finally set me down and turned to answer the door.

"No, he lost that a long time ago," he answered.

I straightened my shirt as Bobby unlocked the door and then opened it up to find Mike and Carolyn waiting in the hall.

"What took you so long?" Mike asked with a grin.

"Good to see you, too," Bobby replied. He stepped back to let them both into the apartment, and then he gave Carolyn a quick hug.

"Ignore him," Carolyn said. "He's had a little bit of cabin fever, I think."

"Hey, I've been in the house more than not for the past two weeks. That's enough to drive anybody crazy."

"Did you get the cigars?" Bobby asked him.

"Yeah I got 'em. You ready to lose your shirt?"

"N'yeah, I don't think so," Bobby retorted.

"How's the head today?" I asked Mike as I gave him a hug.

"I think it's finally back to normal," he answered.

I ran my hand over the top of his head, feeling the fuzziness of the super-short haircut. He'd been keeping it short since they'd had to shave a section of it to access the damaged area. I stepped around behind him to look at the spot that had been stitched and saw that his latest haircut had finally been enough to get all of his hair back to the same length.

"It looks good," I told him.

"It doesn't," he argued. "But thanks for lying."

"Now don't start anything with my brother tonight," I said as he turned to leave.

"Sean?"

"Kevin, and don't try to pretend that you don't know what I'm talking about."

"Mike is not going to start anything with anyone tonight," Carolyn said. "Right, Mike? Because your head can't take another hit right now, and if we have to postpone our trip because you tried to bait a fireman…"

"I got it, sweetheart," he told her. He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss and then patted me on top of the head. "I'll be good, I promise."

"Bobby…"

"I'll make sure that he's good."

I kissed Bobby one more time before he left, wanting to make sure that he got the message that I _would_ be waiting up for him and I _would_ be expecting some action, and then the two of them were out the door.

"Wine?" I asked Carolyn.

"Yes," she replied emphatically. "Is Liz still coming over?"

"She should be here any time. I'm not sure about Cathy."

"How's that going?"

"Cathy and Steve?" I asked as I handed Carolyn a glass. "It's not. I thought that maybe I'd gotten through to her, but when I talked to her a few days ago, she basically told me to mind my own business."

"Well…"

"Yeah, I know. I should."

"I'm not saying that. I'm just saying that maybe there's more to it than you know. I mean, everyone thought that you and Joe were great together, right?"

"That is true," I agreed. "But I don't get how she can just leave Nathan behind. That's the part that really gets me."

We sat down together in the living room, and as soon as I settled back against the cushion, my phone rang. I got up and went over to the side table near the door where I had left it.

"Goren," I answered.

"Alex? It's John. Is Bobby with you?"

It was Strathmore, and he sounded slightly off.

"No, he just left. He's on his way to the poker game. Aren't you headed that way?"

"I am. I'll be there in a few minutes, but I was hoping to catch Bobby before he left. He went with Mike, right?"

"Yeah. Is everything okay?"

"No. So Carolyn's with you?"

"Yes," I answered cautiously. I wasn't sure where this exchange was going, but I was going to give him the benefit of the doubt for at least a few minutes.

I wandered into the kitchen to finish the conversation, and the timing worked out well because about that time Liz knocked on the door, so Carolyn let her in and the two of them went into the living room to chat.

"Don't tell her that it's me, okay? Or, I mean, she probably knows by now, but you can't tell her why I'm calling. I can't talk about it with Bobby in front of Mike, and I didn't want to sit on it all night."

"Okay. What's up?"

"I just…I got some disturbing news a few minutes ago, and…I have a…well, I have a favor that I want to ask you and Bobby. But I don't want Mike and Carolyn to know about it because I'm afraid that if they find out then they won't take their trip. And they really need a break."

"We don't generally keep secrets from each other," I told him. I didn't want him to get the wrong impression.

"No, I know that you don't. And I respect that. And as soon as they get back from Rio, then by all means, we can bring them up to speed."

His explanation made me feel better about hiding the purpose of his call from Carolyn because I didn't want anything to postpone their trip, either.

But I was worried about what it could be that had him on edge.

"What is it?"

"You know about Heidi, right?"

"Yes."

"I got a call today from the Denver PD. They said that they had a recent murder, some high-level player in the drug running game. He was into it all: drugs, prostitution, money laundering…you name it, this guy did it."

"Okay," I encouraged, unsure of how this fit into the ten-year-old murder of his fiancé.

"The detective says the ballistics report brought back a match. The same gun that killed Heidi killed this guy, Ramone Cortez. Alex…now they're saying that her murder wasn't random. They're saying that she must have been involved."

"With Cortez's dealings?" I asked.

"Yeah. And I know it doesn't seem like it should matter…"

"No, it does matter," I interrupted. "I can understand that. What can we do?"

"I want to hire you and Bobby to go to Denver and solve Heidi's murder. I want it proven that she didn't have anything to do with that guy, or any of his gang."

"I'll talk to Bobby about it in the morning," I promised. I wasn't going to commit without going over it with him first, and I knew that John didn't expect me to. Even after only two weeks, he knew us better than that.

"But John," I continued. "Once we start digging, you never know what we'll find. You can't put the genie back in the bottle. Are you sure you want us to go through with this?"

"She wasn't like that," he insisted. "The only thing you'll find is evidence that proves she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She had no ties to any gang."

"Okay. But you have to do me a favor."

"What's that?"

"Go to the poker game. Have fun and don't think about this for tonight. Bobby and I will talk in the morning, and then we'll call you and we can go from there. If you act off tonight, Mike's going to know something's up. Got it?"

"I hear you. Okay."

"I'll call you tomorrow," I told him.

"Okay," he said again. "And Alex…"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

TBC...


	2. Chapter 2

**Bobby POV**

* * *

An hour into the game, I was three hundred dollars up.

It was time to start losing.

Lewis always got a huge kick out of how I can win or lose pretty much at will, and Mike was fairly entertained by it, too.

Alex's dad, however, was not.

"Are you counting cards?" he asked me for the fifth time since we'd started.

"Dad, counting cards is only illegal in a casino. Goren can't help it if he's smart enough to remember every card that everyone plays," Sean said.

He was my defender.

So far, Johnny Eames had thrown several zingers directed at me, and Sean had deflected them all.

I wondered how much Alex was paying him to keep their dad in check.

"You don't count cards when you're playing with friends," Johnny insisted.

"I do it all the time," Strathmore spoke up. "I'm just not very good at it."

"I'm not counting cards," I said.

"No, he's reading people," Mike filled in.

"Reading people? That's bullshit," Johnny insisted. He took a deep pull on his cigar and looked at me challengingly.

Where had this attitude come from?

I thought we'd cleared the air a bit when we'd had dinner with him at Christmas.

Although, I guess the last time I'd seen him, we'd had to leave early, but still…Carolyn had been kidnapped. What we were supposed to do? Was he really still offended because of that?

Because despite the fact that I'd thought things were progressing, tonight he was just openly hostile.

"Sounds like a lot of psycho-babble crap to me, too, Dad," Kevin said, and even though his words were intended for me, he focused his stare on Mike.

Kevin was with Ladder Company Six, and had taken it personal when he'd learned that some time back Mike had gotten into a brawl with some firefighters in their own house.

"You go for that shit, Logan?" Kevin asked. "Or do you just like to disrespect hard working men in front of their colleagues?"

"Hey, Kev…" Sean warned.

"No, it's okay, Sean," Mike spoke up. "If you've got a problem with me, Kevin, why don't you just come out and say it?"

"Because we're here to play cards, not fight," I interrupted.

"No, you're here to cheat at cards," Johnny grumbled.

_Why was I doing this again? When I had Alex at home waiting for me_?

Right. Because I wanted to make things better with her family.

That plan was going brilliantly.

"Bobby doesn't cheat, Johnny," Ross said.

He'd just come back into the room with another bottle of scotch and he walked around the table, filling everyone's glasses.

"I'd think that you would know your own daughter well enough to know that she'd never tolerate someone like that," he continued.

_Score one for the captain_.

Johnny only knew Ross by reputation, but he did respect his position. So despite not actually being the oldest, he was sort of looked upon as the elder of the group.

And the fact that our former boss was standing up for me went a long way toward penetrating Johnny's thick layer of resentment.

Johnny shifted in his seat a little and looked slightly embarrassed for his petulant attitude toward me.

And Ross wasn't done.

"And Kevin, Logan got jumped in that firehouse. He was investigating a murder and it took a direction that your brethren didn't appreciate, but he's never been disrespectful of a firefighter. Not that I've ever seen."

"Lawyers, maybe," Mike joked, and after a second of hesitation, everyone laughed. "Judges…priests…"

"I get it," Kevin said at last. "No hard feelings."

He stood up and reached across the table to shake Logan's hand.

"Although big Charlie says that you punch like a girl," Kevin added. And the table erupted in laughter again.

Mike laughed along with everyone else, taking the shot for what it was. A last, weak jab after the bell had rung.

"So, Goren," Johnny said. "How's retirement?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it retirement. I've been busier this past month than I was all last year."

"Yeah, you know the commissioner has decided to start contracting out more work to private consultants," Ross added, and I was glad that he didn't mention the whole captain thing.

I had a feeling that Johnny wouldn't like the idea of Alex turning down such an offer.

"That's great," Strathmore said. "More business for you guys, huh?"

"What about Alex? Are you working my girl too hard?"

I pinned Mike with a stern look to keep him from making the joke that I knew was on the tip of his tongue.

I was not going to discuss my sex life, especially not with Alex's father in the room.

"Alex loves the work," I told him. "It's what she's good at."

"Of course she's good at it," he replied quickly. "She was good at it for seventeen years with the NYPD."

"But this is better," Mike told him. "She doesn't have to answer to the brass. No offense," he added to Ross.

"None taken. I've considered joining you guys myself."

"You have?" Johnny asked sharply. "You thought about leaving the department? But you're a captain!"

"I'm a captain who was getting squeezed by a corrupt chief," he answered. "The idea of choosing my own cases and being my own boss…well, that's very appealing. But with Moran gone, and the commissioner on my side, I decided that maybe I could help clean out the department and make it better."

"Alex could make the department better. She'd make a great captain."

"Yes she would," Ross agreed. "And so would Bobby."

_Oh shit, here it comes._

"But they both love what they're doing now. I've never seen either of them happier."

I sent Ross a silent thank you while he and Johnny came to some sort of understanding as the looked at each other across the table.

"You know that Alex saved my life, right?" Strathmore spoke up.

It was a random statement, but I was glad for the change of direction in conversation. I knew that Johnny had trouble reconciling the Alex he once knew with the woman she was today.

Why couldn't he just see how great she was?

"The doctors said that I only healed so quickly because first aid was given right away," John continued.

"She saved my life, too," Mike added.

"And mine," I said, although with me it was more figurative than literal. She had completely changed my life and had made it better than I'd ever imagined it could be.

"She's a regular super hero," Ross said. Lewis nodded his head in complete agreement with Ross' assessment.

Johnny sat slack-jawed at the obvious admiration so many men at the table held for his daughter.

"She saved mine, too," Sean said.

Now that one I didn't know about.

I looked at her brother quizzically, and was surprised to see that Kevin and Johnny both looked at him in a similar fashion. Apparently I wasn't the only one in the dark about this.

"When?" Kevin asked.

"When we were kids," he said with a shrug. "Down at Surf City."

"What happened?" I asked.

"Oh, we were goofing around out in the ocean. I got caught in the undertow."

"I told you kids not to go out too far," Johnny said sharply.

"Dad, it was thirty years ago. You don't have to yell at me about it now."

"So then what?" Lewis asked.

"She swam out to me, and grabbed onto my arm, and swam with me back to the shore."

"Thirty years ago?" I asked. "So she was what, about twelve, thirteen?"

"Something like that. I'd swallowed a gallon or two of salt water, and she had to force it out of my lungs and get me breathing again."

"That sounds familiar," Mike muttered.

"Sean, I can't believe you never told me about that," Johnny said.

"She didn't want me to. And I was afraid that you'd whip both of our hides if you found out, so we kept it a secret."

"Now _she'll_ whip your ass for giving it up," Kevin teased.

It seemed as though Kevin had gotten over his issues about Logan, and I was glad for that. He was a nice enough guy, but I guess he felt obligated to stand up for his fellow firefighters. Now that the air was cleared, he was able to relax.

"Not if no one tells her," Sean said pointedly.

"She pulled me out from a frozen lake," Mike said. And then he proceeded to tell his story about how she'd saved his life.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Johnny who sat enthralled with the recount of the incident that occurred in Minnesota.

"You knew about that, right? That's why she got the medal," Ross stated.

"No, I…she never really…we haven't talked much lately."

He looked at me when he said the words, but the anger was fading.

One of the unspoken rules of poker night is not to get too emotional about anything, so Lewis quickly dealt the next hand.

"Seven card stud," he declared. "Follow the queen."

"It doesn't do you any good to count on this one, rain man," Johnny said, but he said it with a smirk. A very Alex-like smirk, and I found myself relaxing marginally.

I took another drink of my scotch and set about proving him wrong.

Two more hours passed, and by this time most every one had had more than enough to drink.

"So I wake up the next morning, and the one girl says to the other one _hurry up or we'll be late for class_," Strathmore said, and he could barely get the words out from laughing.

Lewis looked at him in shock and Mike just looked impressed.

"You were with two women? At the same time?" Lewis asked him.

"How old were you?" I asked in amusement, expecting him to say twenty-something.

"The same age I am now," he answered with a grin. "It was two weeks ago."

"Oh man, you are my new hero," Sean said, shaking his head as he shuffled the cards.

"Yeah, I'm sure Alicia would love to know that you have hero worship because of a threesome," Kevin reminded his brother.

"Hey, what she doesn't know won't hurt her, right?"

"What do you think, Goren?" Johnny asked, and I saw that test coming a mile away.

"I think that I have more than enough trouble just keeping up with Alex."

And I hadn't meant that to sound quite like it did, but the whole table roared with laughter.

"I do _not _need to hear how my sister is in bed," Kevin said, waving his hands in front of his face.

"I didn't mean…I wasn't saying that…"

"Yeah, come on Goren," Sean added. "Sorry, man, but you're the only one here who isn't allowed to talk about your sex life."

"I wasn't…I didn't…"

"Quit while you're behind, son," Johnny said, chuckling.

And the sound of him calling me son was unexpectedly pleasant. I couldn't decide if the word had slipped out, or if he'd done it intentionally, but I liked it.

"So, Logan," Sean said. "I hear you're headed to Rio, home of the string bikini, huh?"

"On Monday," he confirmed.

"Does Carolyn wear one of those?" Lewis asked him.

"A bikini? Yeah, but she won't be on this trip," he said with a grin. "We're going to the nude beach."

"What?" Lewis choked out.

"Are you really?" Kevin asked him. "How did you talk her into doing that?"

"Hell, _she_ talked _me_ into it," Logan answered. He looked around the table and waggled his eyebrows before adding, "Praia do Abricó. I'll be sure to send you all a postcard."

"Yeah, and some pictures," Sean said.

"Just not of you!" Kevin added.

"I'm not sending you any pictures. If you guys want to see that, you can talk your own wives into going."

"Alicia would never go for that."

"Kendra wouldn't either," Kevin said.

I bit my tongue. Because Alex would do it in a second.

"Liz would," Ross said as I was puffing on my cigar. I nearly choked on the smoke.

"Dr. Rodgers?" Strathmore asked with interest. "Really?"

"She…well…yes," he said, and I wondered what he'd been getting ready to say because his face suddenly turned red just from his own thoughts.

"I always knew the good doctor had a wild streak in her," Mike said.

"You have no idea," Ross said as he dealt the next hand.

"What about Alex?" Sean asked in amusement, and I wanted to kick him under the table.

"What about Alex?" I retorted obtusely.

"Yeah, Goren," Johnny said. "You say I don't know my own daughter. So tell me about her. Would she ever go to a place like that?"

"Sir, I would never say that you don't know your daughter," I deflected, choosing to go with that portion of his comment rather than the real question.

"No, no, it's okay," he said with a smile. He tossed back the remaining liquid from his glass and then said in a challenging tone, "Maybe you're right. Maybe I knew her as a kid, but not as an adult. So tell me. Would she go?"

I felt like a deer trapped in headlights.

I glanced around the table and everyone was looking at me.

Mike was fighting to contain his laughter, because he knew what the honest answer would be.

"She'd go," Lewis said suddenly, and then everyone changed their focus to him. His face reddened slightly, but then he said, "Because…because it basically comes down to courage. And…and Alex is fearless."

"That's true," Ross said with a nod. "She didn't break a sweat when Stoat put a price on her head last month."

"And she didn't even flinch when Bobby shot that woman who was using her as a human shield," Logan added as he looked around the table. "Goren took that woman down with a shot to the forehead, and Alex was only inches away."

"She gave me the go-ahead," I explained. I didn't want anyone to think that I would ever risk Alex's life with an impetuous decision.

"I know," Mike agreed. "She just stood there cool as a cucumber and gave you the look."

"Yeah, and what is it with those looks?" Strathmore said. "Is it just me, or do they carry on whole conversations like that?"

"It's not just you," Lewis jumped in. "They've been doing that forever."

"Tell me about it," Ross said. "They used to drive me crazy with that. How was I supposed to stay in the loop when they had silent conversations?"

"I couldn't believe when Carolyn told me that you guys have only been married a month," Strathmore said.

"Well, we were partners for nearly a decade," I stated.

"Yeah. Partners," Johnny chuffed.

"Dad," Sean started.

"Sorry," he replied with a shake of his head. "It's an ingrained response."

But to me he sounded anything but sorry.

I knew that he was trying and so was I, but damn it, I was really getting tired of his snide remarks.

"Would you rather she still be alone?" I asked sharply.

"Alone?" he asked, surprised by my vehemence.

"That's what I'm asking. You hate the idea that she's with me. Is it because we were partners or because I'm not Joe?"

My outburst caused silence to drop over the room.

"Goren…" Sean began, ever the negotiator. But Johnny waved him off.

"Of course I don't want my daughter to be alone," Johnny stated. "But in my day, there were rules about partners."

I felt like I was going to be sick. I was never going to win this man over, but I couldn't just quit on it.

"There still are. That's why we fought it as long as we could. But what's more important to you? That she has a career with the department, or that she's happy?"

"Why can't she have both?"

"Because it's not what she wants," Ross interjected. "She could've had both. It was her choice to walk away, and her relationship with Bobby had nothing to do with it."

"What do you mean she could've had both?"

"The commissioner has made numerous offers to get the two of them back," Ross explained, and I was shocked to see that he seemed really ticked off. "And every time, Bobby told her that she should take it if she wanted it. And every time she said no. So when it's suggested that you don't know your daughter, we're not talking about whether or not she'd go to a nude beach. We're talking about her goals in life, and what's important to her. Maybe you should take some time to get to know her again instead of blaming everything on Bobby."

It was ironic, coming from him, considering he'd spent years blaming me unjustly.

Or maybe that meant it was fitting.

But either way, I was grateful.

Because maybe it had to come from an outside source before Johnny would open his eyes to things.

Mike got up and opened a new bottle of scotch. He came around and filled my glass first, and then hesitated and looked at Johnny as though he wanted to make sure he made note of his position. _Beside me_.

Lewis came over and brought me another cigar. And stood beside me.

So for a moment, I had Ross sitting on one side of me, Strathmore on the other, and then Mike and Lewis standing between them.

The Eames men were on the other side of the table.

"Can you top off my glass Logan?" Sean asked.

And just like that, the tension was broken.

Mike walked around to him and poured the scotch. Lewis handed out cigars to Johnny and Strathmore and then lit another one for himself as he went back to his chair.

Sean started shuffling the cards again.

"Hey, Goren," Kevin said. "Teach me how to do that card-counting thing. I could make a mint at the fire house."

"I don't count cards," I said again, only this time with a smile. "But I can teach you how to win."

"Bobby," Strathmore whispered to me. "Who's Joe?"

"Joe is the past," Johnny said dismissively. Then he grabbed the deck from Sean's hand and started dealing the cards. "Now let's play. I need to win my money back."

"I don't see that happening tonight," Mike said with a chuckle.

"Doesn't have to," Johnny said, giving me a pointed stare. "We'll have plenty more nights in the future."

**The End (?)**

A/N - obsessedwithstabler wanted this story to end with a happy poker game, so...I guess I'll just 86 the remaining chapters that I've written and end it all right here. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This chapter is brought to you courtesy of Mitzvahgirl - my words, but her ideas (and that goes for the poker game itself from the previous chapter, too).**

**Alex POV**

* * *

It was one-fifteen when I heard the key in the lock.

A shiver of excitement went through me just at the sound, but then amusement filtered through me as well when I realized that he was struggling to get the door open.

_How much had he had to drink_?

After another minute, I decided that I'd better help him. I went down the hall and through the living room to open the door.

"You're supposed to be in the bed," he said when he came through the door looking every bit as sexy as he had when he'd left.

More so even because it had now been more than six hours since he'd shaved. And his hair was messy, like maybe he'd run his hand through it a few times.

"I was," I answered with a smile. "But you couldn't get your…key in the…keyhole."

Even in his inebriated state, he didn't miss the innuendo behind my statement.

"Alex," he chastised as he pulled me into his arms. He smelled of cigar smoke and liquor which only served to enhance his already intoxicating smell. "Don't ever underestimate my…dexterity."

The warmth of his embrace, the roughness of his jeans against my barely-there sleepwear, and the feel of his hands as they stroked the length of my back…this was exactly what I'd been waiting for.

Hell, I'd been ready for this even before he left, and my need for him had only increased during the hours in between.

And I'd decided that it was total bullshit about women hitting their sexual peak at thirty-two. It was more like about _ten years_ after that.

"You know, your dad loves me now," he told me as he slipped one strap from my shoulder. He let his hand follow the path of the satiny material.

"He does?"

"Well, no," he amended, pressing his lips against the newly bared skin. "But he hates me less than before."

"He's never hated you."

"That's debatable."

And then I completely lost track of our conversation as he slid the strap from my other shoulder, letting the fabric fall to my waist.

He took a deep breath and let his eyes linger over me before bringing them up to meet mine.

"My beautiful Alex," he whispered reverently.

Then he worked his fingers into my hair, tilting my head up toward his so that he could bring his lips against mine.

The taste of him was even better than the smell.

The pungent tang of the Cohiba cigar mixed with the subtly sweet flavor of Glenlivet scotch…they combined to create a heady essence that only increased my already powerful desire.

And his intoxication was making him lose what little bit of inhibition he had.

"I've been thinking about doing this all night," he told me as he ran his hands down my sides until he reached the satin that had pooled at my waist. He pushed it down past my hips until I could step out of it completely.

"You weren't thinking about me," I teased. He still had his coat on, and as much as I loved it, it was time for him to lose it so I slid it off his arms and let it drop to the floor. "You were playing cards."

"I was _cleaning up_ at cards," he clarified with a smug grin.

"You won?" I asked in surprise. "You never win."

"Well, your dad pissed me off. I had to prove a point."

He kissed me again, and began walking me backwards into the living room. As we moved, I pulled his shirt from his jeans and then undid his belt.

"Did you know that Mike and Carolyn are going to a nude beach?" he asked me, and then he let out a ragged breath as I tugged down the zipper and reached my hand inside, eager to touch him.

"She told me," I admitted. I tightened my fingers around him as my other hand worked to shove his jeans down. "Mike told you guys?"

He didn't answer me for a minute, because right about then I managed to get his pants completely off of him and then I pulled his shirt over his head.

I ran my hand over the rough stubble on his cheek and then guided his head down to mine so that I could kiss him again. I needed to taste him, needed to _feel _him.

He stepped into me, pushing me against the back of the couch, his body flush against mine.

"Uh huh…and then I started thinking about you…naked, on the hot sand…"

His hands and his lips were everywhere at once and I lost all rational thought.

And I couldn't bring myself to care.

Instead, I was completely focused on the perfectly sinful sensation of coarse whiskers followed by soothing tongue against my skin. I pushed my fingers through his wavy hair and let my eyes close against the onslaught.

He brought me just to this side of insanity and then backed off, kissing his way up to my neck.

Then he put his lips against mine and kissed me with such passion, such intensity…I couldn't get enough of him. I never wanted it to end.

"Turn around," he said hoarsely when he finally dragged his mouth away from mine. His rough command sent a fresh wave of desire through me and I instantly complied.

He put his hands into my hair, shoving it aside to expose the back of my neck, and then he traced his fingers lightly up and down my spine. His lips then followed the track, and within minutes, I was right back on the edge.

And I couldn't stop myself from begging for him to finish what he'd started.

I think that was what he was waiting for. No sooner had the words come out of my mouth then he grabbed me by the hips and pushed into me. Hard.

It was perfect.

I screamed out his name, followed by encouragement and a few curse words.

And I wanted to wait for him, really I did, but it seemed as though I was physically incapable of holding back, so I let myself go.

I'd catch him on the second time around.

Or so I thought.

But there was something about the anticipation, or the smell of the scotch, or the taste of the cigar…_something_ that had me calling out his name again only minutes after recovering from the first wave.

Maybe it was that sexual prime thing.

Whatever it was, I'm not complaining. I was nearly ready a third time when Bobby slowed the frenetic pace, and leaned over to kiss the back of my neck.

"I need to see you," he whispered, and then he stopped altogether and I turned back around. He lifted me slightly so that I was now sitting on the back of the couch, and I wrapped my arms around his neck.

He locked his eyes onto mine as he slid back inside of me.

The tempo had slowed, but the emotion was greater and I found myself getting a little bit choked up.

He ran his hands through my now-sweaty hair and held my gaze as he maintained a deliberate pace.

And it went on and on, the pressure building in each of us until finally, exquisitely and appropriately, we found completion together.

It was nearly three when we finally got into the bed.

"I think you should do poker nights more often," I said as I ran my fingers through the hair on his chest.

"Why is that?"

"Well, you came home three hundred dollars richer," I answered.

"Oh, so it's for the money?"

"No," I admitted, unable to contain my smile. "No, it's not for the money. Let's just say that I like your mood when you came home. Must be all that guy talk."

"I like your mood when I came home, too. Girl talk?"

"Some," I replied casually. I wasn't going to tell him any more than he was going to tell me. "Oh, I do have something to talk to you about though."

"What is it?" he asked, catching on to the seriousness of the topic.

"John called me tonight, right after you left."

"Strathmore? Why?"

"He wants to hire us."

"Why didn't he ask me about it? I was with him all night."

"He doesn't want Mike to know."

I filled him in on the conversation that I'd had with John.

"What did you tell him?"

"I said that I needed to discuss it with you first. We can call him in the morning."

"Well, we have to tell Mike and Carolyn."

"No, we don't."

"We're in this business together. Even putting aside the friendship, we decide on cases _together_."

"Bobby, if we tell them, you know they'll cancel their trip. And there may not be anything to this."

"So you want us to lie to them?"

"I'm not saying that we should lie. I'm just saying that we should wait. We wouldn't call to tell them about any other case we decide to work on while they're gone, right?"

"That's different. We already know about this one. And there won't _be_ any other cases if we go to Denver."

"We don't know yet if it'll involve a trip out there. We need to get in touch with the Denver PD and find out what they know. Maybe it'll only take a few phone calls. They may not have told John some of the important details considering that it was his fiancé."

"That's true."

"And if we do go out there, and we find out that there's something to it, then we'll tell them."

"It's just…I don't want Mike to get the wrong idea. I feel like I'm choosing sides here."

"Between him and John?"

"Yeah. And you know whose side I'd pick."

"I know. And so does Mike. Hell, so does John. He asked us to keep it quiet because he cares about Mike."

Bobby was quiet for a few minutes, and I let him be.

This situation with John was bad timing all the way around. If any one fact were slightly different, then it wouldn't be a big deal.

If Mike and Carolyn didn't desperately need this time away.

If we'd known John for more than a couple of weeks so that the dichotomy was better established.

If the Denver PD wasn't trying to say that a mild-mannered thirty-year-old murder victim from Atlantic City was part of a gang of drug runners…

"Okay," Bobby said softly. "I think that maybe you're right."

"I know this is bad," I replied. "I don't like it either. But let's not jump the gun. We'll check it out on Monday and see what we can find out."

"And if it turns out that we need to go to Denver…"

"Then we'll call them, just to let them know what's going on. But by that point, they'll already be in Rio. They're not going to hop a plane and come back here just to go on a look-see with us."

"Okay. So tomorrow we'll talk to John and let him know our decision."

"Right."

With the decision made, we both relaxed again, having gradually gotten tense due to the topic of discussion.

Bobby and Mike were still feeling their way through this brother thing. Not with each other, but with the addition of John.

And so far, it was going well.

I only hoped that this latest development didn't cause any irreparable damage.

Because even though I felt strongly that we were doing the right thing, I also knew that when Mike found out about it, and he _would _find out, then he was going to be upset.

But that didn't make me want to change my mind.

Because I loved him and I wanted to protect him.

He and Carolyn had been through the wringer on that last case, and they really, _really_ needed this time off.

She'd mentioned that she was still having some nightmares, and that Mike was having quite a few as well. Apparently the resurgence of his mother in his psyche had opened up a lot of old wounds.

They needed time to heal.

And on the flip side, John had some healing to do as well.

He'd been mourning his loss for far too long, and maybe solving Heidi's murder could provide him with some closure. I didn't know if we could solve it or not, but at the very least we could help keep her reputation from getting dragged through the mud.

I knew a little bit about that myself. It hadn't been so long ago that Joe's case had been reopened. It had been tough on me even though I'd considered myself to be over him, so I could only imagine how much harder it would've been if I'd still been in love with him.

So I wanted to help John.

And I wanted to help Mike and Carolyn.

Even if it meant that Bobby and I were going to get caught in the middle.

At least we'd be there together.

TBC...


	4. Chapter 4

**Strathmore POV**

* * *

I'd been looking forward to the poker game for the past two weeks.

Ever since I heard about it, to be honest.

And it wasn't like I gave a rat's ass about actually playing poker. I mean, come on. I live in Atlantic City, and I own casinos. I could jump into a game any time the urge hit me.

But it had been a long damn time since I'd been included in something because I was John rather than _rich Mr. Strathmore_.

I'd spent a little time with Mike and Bobby and their wives over the past couple of weeks. Not as much as I'd like, but it was a start.

I mean, I couldn't just drop everything and start spending my days in Manhattan.

I had a job.

They had jobs.

And we needed to take things a step at a time.

But I was excited about getting together with Mike and Bobby again. I'd already met their old captain, who was also coming, as well as their friend Lewis.

The rest of the group consisted of Alex's father and brothers, and I was interested in meeting them, too. Because she was quite a woman and I was curious to see where she got her pluck.

I was only a few miles from the address that Mike had given me for Lewis' place when I got the call.

From the Denver PD.

"Mr. Strathmore, we finally got a lead on the Heidi Casper case."

"What is it?" I'd asked tersely. Had they finally caught her killer?

"The ballistics on the bullets that killed her matched up to a recent murder. We've got a suspect."

"So the same gun was used in both murders? And you know who did it?"

"We _think_ we know who did it. It's gang related."

That didn't really surprise me. That was their party line all along. _Wrong place, wrong time…_

"But this isn't just a street banger," the detective said. "This is someone higher up. It's unlikely that Ms. Casper's killing was random. The weapon hasn't been linked to any other murders."

And that was when my tunnel vision started.

What was he saying? What did he think the killing was about if it wasn't random?

"We're pulling the old murder from the cold case files. We think that we have enough evidence to attach it to this latest killing. Ms. Casper's murder will be labeled as a drug-related death, part of the on-going gang war."

And _that_ was when my temper kicked in.

"Drug-related?" I shouted. "Because you matched up a bullet? There's not another shred of evidence to suggest this!"

"Mr. Strathmore, the victim made numerous trips to Denver…"

"She sold medical supplies! She had clients all across the country, and made numerous trips to a lot of cities! That doesn't mean she was doing or dealing drugs!"

"Mr. Strathmore…"

"No, you listen to me. You're only interested in clearing that case and getting me off of your back, but if you continue to pursue this preposterous avenue, then my lawyer will be in touch with your chief. Or…"

"That's not necessary, sir," he interrupted.

"No, you know what? I've got a team of investigators that will be coming to Denver this week. I want you to give them access to everything you have on Heidi's case. If they reach the same conclusion that you have, then I'll shut the hell up. But if they find something, if they find what _really_ happened, then your records had damn well better correspond with their findings or I'll have your ass on a platter!"

"A team of investigators? You don't need to do that. We've got four homicide detectives working to clear this case…"

"That's right. Working to _clear the case_. You don't care about the truth. You just want it off your desk."

I was breathing heavily and my heart was pounding. I suddenly realized that Rocco had pulled the car off the road and was now parked on a side street.

"Give me a call when you make their travel arrangements. I'll make sure that they're brought up to speed," the detective said at last.

He knew who I was. I didn't like to throw my weight around, but I would when it came to Heidi.

Because I knew the Attorney General of the fine state of Colorado. We'd been roommates at Princeton. And Detective Rollins knew that, too.

"See that you do," I said just before hanging up.

"Are you okay?" Rocco asked me. I didn't answer at first, but instead poured myself a drink. It was one of the perks to having a driver.

"Sir?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you going to ask your brother to go to Denver?"

I had been. Planning to ask Mike, that is. But as Rocco said the words, I remembered why that was a bad idea.

He and Carolyn were going to Rio.

"Shit," I muttered, and then tossed back the glass of bourbon. "Shit!"

I wanted to throw something, break something, do _some_thing.

Mike had confessed to me one day last week that he had a reputation for having a temper. He wasn't alone in that respect. I had a hell of a temper, too. It just didn't come out very often.

But it was out now, and I was struggling to maintain my control.

And then I thought about Bobby.

He was accepting of me. And he definitely cared a lot about Mike. I hated putting him in the position of keeping a secret from Mike, but I also couldn't let the Denver PD close the case the way it was.

If they wrapped it up before anyone had solid evidence to dispute it, how much harder would it be to get them to change it later?

But if someone could look into it now while it was still open…

I really needed them to go.

And yeah, I could call another investigator.

But these guys were good. _Really _good.

And I would trust whatever conclusion they came to.

Maybe I could convince Bobby and Alex to get started on it without Mike and Carolyn and then bring them up to speed when they got back.

"Give me another minute," I told Rocco, and then I called Bobby's house, and spoke with Alex.

I felt marginally better after our conversation. She didn't make me any promises, but I hadn't expected her to. She wasn't the type to blow smoke up my ass, and she wouldn't make a unilateral decision about something that concerned them both.

When I finished with her, I directed Rocco to take me to the poker game. I had another drink along the way in an effort to shake off my dark mood, and I guess that it worked.

Because I had a good time.

The vibes between Alex's dad and Bobby were a little unsettling. It made me want to slug the old guy for giving him such a hard time, but they sort of worked it out.

Bobby stood his ground, and Ross stood up for him, too. I wasn't privy to everything that had gone on in the past, but I could read between the lines.

Alex's dad thought that Bobby had ruined her career.

Funny, because from where I stood, it looked like she had a great career that she loved very much. Her old man just wasn't seeing the forest for the trees.

At twelve-thirty, Bobby said he had to go home.

"Alex has got you on a short leash, huh Goren?" Sean had asked jokingly.

"No, I…I just…" he stammered. I'd learned that he tended to do that either when he was embarrassed or he'd tripped himself up by nearly saying the wrong thing.

"I have to go, too," I said, even though I didn't. Bobby had been on the hot seat enough tonight.

"You got a late date, Strathmore?" Kevin asked me.

"With one woman? Or two?" Mike asked with a grin.

"A gentleman never tells," I responded as I got up from the table.

"But you already told us about those Vegas girls!" Lewis argued.

"They're two thousand miles away. That's different. Come on, Bobby. I'll get Rocco to drop you off at home. Mike?"

"Yeah, I could use a ride, too."

"Anybody else?" I offered.

"Nah, we'll hop the subway. Nice meeting you," Sean said, shaking my hand.

"Captain?"

"No," he said after checking his phone. "Liz just finished up at work. She's going to swing by and pick me up."

We eventually said our goodbyes and then the three of us went out to the waiting car.

"Seriously, you got a date?" Mike asked once we were on the road. "Can I live vicariously through you?"

"You've got a beautiful wife who is taking you to an exotic nude beach in South America. And you want to live vicariously through _me_?"

"No, you're right," he grinned. "I am one lucky son of a bitch."

"Yes you are. Both of you. I don't have a date. I was just trying to get Bobby off the hook."

"Thank you for that," he said. "She doesn't have me on a leash. I just…I said that I'd be home by one."

"Does she wait up for you?"

"I hope so."

"Stick around in the lobby for a few minutes," Mike joked. "If she waited up, you'll hear them."

"She's going to yell at him?" I asked in confusion as I checked my watch. Then I looked at Bobby and added, "Because you're going to be a few minutes late?"

I could tell that Alex had a bit of a temper, but I hadn't often seen her mad at Bobby. Usually they looked like they wanted to tear each other's clothes off.

"Oh, she'll be screaming all right," Mike laughed.

"Mike…"

"They've gotten complaints from their neighbors," he added in a conspiratorial voice.

"Mike!"

"Hey, we couldn't harass you about your sex life all night. You can at least let me ride your ass for the fifteen minutes that we're in the car!"

I couldn't help but laugh as the two of them bickered like brothers.

And then I felt a pang of longing because I was still the outsider.

And not only that, but they were both going home to their wives. In fact, everyone in that room tonight had someone. Even Lewis had a girlfriend.

I didn't have anyone.

That made me miss Heidi even more.

I didn't feel like making Rocco drive back to AC considering the late hour, so after dropping off Mike and Bobby at their respective homes, we got a couple of rooms at a mid-town hotel.

I wondered if Alex was telling Bobby about my request. Or if she was just screaming out his name while he…

Damn, I _really _needed to find a woman.

I wandered into the hotel bar, and had another drink before heading up to my room.

Alone.

The next morning, my phone rang at nine.

"Are you still in the city?" Alex asked me.

"Yes. What's up?"

"Why don't you come over?" she suggested. "I'll make some breakfast, and we can talk."

She gave me no indication if the decision was in my favor, but at least she wasn't too upset with me for putting her in a tough spot.

I got to their place about a half an hour later. Alex opened the door, and I was caught off guard by her casual appearance. I'm not sure what I'd expected. I mean, it was Sunday morning, and she was in her own home.

But somehow the shorts and tank top over which she'd halfway buttoned a ridiculously large oxford shirt just didn't seem quite right.

And yet it did. She looked perfectly comfortable and content. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail and she was barefoot. And she had painted toenails.

"Come on in," she said. "Bobby's still in the shower. He was a little slow getting out of the bed this morning."

"Hang over?"

"I don't know how much scotch you guys went through last night, but…yeah, I'd say he's got a bit of a hang over. Although you look…fine."

"I've managed to build up a pretty high tolerance," I replied with a grin. "It smells great in here."

"You want some coffee?"

"Absolutely."

I followed her into the kitchen where she poured me a cup, and a couple of minutes later, Bobby joined us.

Alex silently put a cup in his hand, and then the two of them stood side by side and looked at me.

Even in casual clothing, they were clearly a force to be reckoned with.

And I'd dealt with many a CEO and political bigwigs in my day, but yet I found myself slightly unnerved by the two of them.

"We're going to help," Bobby began. "But as soon as we dig deep enough to confirm the validity of the need for a more thorough investigation, then we're going to bring the Logans into this. I don't want to keep it a secret."

"But I don't…"

"We don't want them to cut their trip short, either," Alex interrupted. "But we don't want to be duplicitous. You've put us in quite a spot."

"I know," I admitted. "I just…I didn't know who else to ask for help."

"We're glad that you asked. And the timing isn't your fault," Bobby said. "But we're going to need full disclosure. You answer every question, give us every piece of information, and you can't hold back, no matter how personal it gets. If you want us to find out the truth, then you have to let us do our jobs."

"I understand."

"And no one else knows about this until we've told them. We'll do as much as we can ourselves, but I don't want it to turn into a case of everyone knew _except_ them."

"I totally agree," I said. "And I'd like to be involved as much as possible."

"_And_," Bobby continued. "If we need to fly to Denver, I'm calling Mike before we go."

"I'll take responsibility for holding out on him," I offered.

"No, it's on all of us. When we tell him, we're all equally culpable. And he's going to be really pissed off," Alex said. "And hurt. But hopefully by that time he will have had his fill of looking at naked women, and he'll be considerably more relaxed. Then maybe he'll listen to the voice of reason."

"Would that be you?" I teased.

"Ha! No," she said with a smile. "That would be Carolyn. She'll understand as soon as we tell them."

"And what if he doesn't listen to her? Or to any of us?"

"Then we gag him and handcuff him to the kitchen chair and beat him into submission," Alex stated with a casual shrug.

I didn't doubt for a second that she could do it.

And for some reason, I found myself strangely attracted to her.

More so than I should be.

I knew that there was no way in the world that she would ever look twice at me, nor would I even consider making a play for her.

I liked and respected Bobby far too much for that.

But I couldn't help but be happy with my progress.

Maybe digging back into this case would be a good thing.

Because I hadn't been attracted to another woman since Heidi.

Oh, I'd had plenty of sex since then, with many beautiful women.

But this feeling was different.

And even though I knew that I could never have Alex, I had to wonder what my chances were of finding someone like her.

Because maybe I was nearly ready to move on.

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

**Carolyn POV**

* * *

For once, I was waiting for Monday to arrive.

I wanted to get on that plane and leave all of the shit that we'd been through lately behind us.

I wasn't so naïve as to think that a vacation would solve all of our problems, but it would sure as hell help.

Because it wasn't like Mike and I were having problems with each other. In fact, as a couple we were doing great.

It was individually where we were each struggling.

My sleep was filled with a continuous loop of varying endings to my time in that supply closet, and Mike's dreams had thrust him back into childhood.

And that's not even taking into account the whole Rhonda situation.

Although I had to admit that I hadn't experienced one bad dream about killing her. I felt no remorse whatsoever. And maybe that should worry me, but it didn't.

I'd been officially cleared of any wrongdoing in that shooting, and it was largely in part due to Lupo.

I owed him a debt of gratitude.

I surely would've been okay either way, but by him shooting Rhonda, it drove home the point to IAB that she was a threat. And once IAB classified his shooting as justified, then it was a no-brainer to extend that courtesy to me, as well.

Rubirosa had thrown her weight into that decision, too, by convincing Mike Cutter that there was no need for charges. She'd told him that it would be an enormous waste of time for an already-overworked prosecutors' office considering the fact that I would ultimately be undoubtedly exonerated.

Cutter had agreed, the inquiry was closed, and I was off the hook.

All within forty-eight hours.

That Saturday night, two weeks ago, Lupo had dropped by the house to bring me my .45.

"_I wasn't sure if you still wanted it,"_ he'd said, his eyes focused on the porch.

It was odd to see him in a non-case situation, and I was surprised to find that he seemed very shy.

I was also happy that he'd stopped by because I'd been a little rude to him that day in the morgue, and I'd never apologized for that. Or thanked him for everthing else.

"_Thanks,"_ I'd told him when he handed me the gun_. "Come on in."_

"_How's Mike?"_ he'd asked me as he came into the foyer and pulled his stocking hat from his head.

"_He's been better. He's knocked out on Demerol at the moment_."

"_He's still having headaches?"_

"_And blurred vision_," I'd said. But then I'd touched him on the arm and added, _"But he's alive. And so is John, thanks to you."_

"_Hey, it wasn't just me_," he'd deflected. "_It was the Gorens and Connie and…"_

"_I know,"_ I'd interrupted. "_But you know what I'm saying."_

He gave me an accepting nod, and then looked around uncomfortably.

"_And I owe you an apology, too_," I'd added before he could bolt. At his inquisitive look, I elaborated, "_In the morgue the other day. I was...rude_."

_"You were stressed_," he'd corrected amicably. "_We've all been there."_

_"Well, still...I didn't need to take out my mood on you."_

_"Apology accepted," _he'd said with a smile. Then he took a step toward the door, and said, "_Well, I'd better go, I just…I wanted to bring you your weapon, and…just make sure that you guys were okay."_

"_He'll be alright in a few more days."_

"_I mean you."_

"_Oh. Well, Rubirosa called me earlier today and said that there wouldn't be any charges brought against me."_

"_I know that. Carolyn…"_

"_I'm fine. Why? Do you…think that I acted…inappropriately?" _

I wasn't going to ask him that. Because I wasn't sure that I wanted to know the answer. And once the words were out there, he couldn't take them back.

"_No,"_ he'd replied quickly. And then even though his head was tilted downward, he brought his eyes up to meet mine. "_You did the right thing. I just wanted to make sure that you didn't doubt yourself about it."_

"_I'm good. I promise."_

"_Okay then,"_ he'd said with a nod. "_I'll get out of your hair."_

He turned to leave, but before he got to the street, I called out to him.

"_Hey Lupo!"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_Maybe me and Mike can buy you and your blonde dinner one of these nights. You know, as a thank you."_

He gave me a boyish grin and shook his head.

"_We'd like that. Call me when Mike's feeling up to it."_

And then I'd sent him on his way.

He was very sweet to be concerned for me, and to bring me back my weapon, although he was right. I wasn't sure if I still wanted it. It had been used to shoot John.

Maybe it was time I retire it and get something else.

After he'd brought it, I'd locked it up in my gun safe, and it had remained there for the past two weeks.

I'd been carrying Mike's spare .380, and I had a new fondness for it since it had helped me to finish off Rhonda.

And maybe that's a little cold of me to think that way, but it was the truth.

But so now, two weeks after the fact, I was still in denial.

Not about the shooting itself, but about the _physical_ aspect of our dealings with Rhonda.

I was completely blocking out everything Mike had been forced to endure.

I mean sure, there'd been no sex. And there'd certainly been no emotional involvement on his part.

So as far as the kissing and the groping went, well…I was just pretending that it had never happened. Because I didn't want that image in my head and I was afraid that if I tried to deal with it, then I'd only make things worse.

And Mike was in denial, too.

Because it was different for a guy. As a general rule, it's considered that sexual assault is something that happens to women.

And maybe what happened with him couldn't technically be classified as sexual assault, but it was pretty damn close. He'd had to deal with unwanted sexual contact, repeatedly, over the course of a couple of days.

And most guys probably couldn't understand why that would be a hardship, but for Mike, it was a tremendous problem.

Because he'd promised to be fully committed to me.

And in my mind, he still was. I couldn't fault him for anything that had happened. As far as I was concerned, he was doing his job, and I would never hold that against him.

But in his mind, he'd done me a disservice by kissing that woman.

So that said, he and I were each begging for therapy. Not literally of course. But any therapist worth his salt would have a field day with our respective issues.

And that's not to say that we _wouldn't _see a shrink. We were keeping that option open.

But_ after_ we got back from Rio.

Because first, I wanted him all to myself for the week with no interruptions.

And the nude beach had been my idea, although it hadn't taken much convincing to get him to go along with it.

My thinking was that it would be a chance for us to strip away our barriers, literally and figuratively. With no shields or armor in place, we might be more inclined to talk with each other about our innermost feelings.

And maybe that sounds like a lot of Zen-like crap. It probably was.

But worst case, we'd come back with full-body tans. And _then_ we could talk to a New York shrink.

But I was kind of hoping that maybe we could heal ourselves.

I'd finished packing an hour or so earlier, and now Mike and I were settled into a booth, waiting on Alex and Bobby.

We were back at McNally's because even though Steve-O's was more convenient, location-wise, it just didn't hold the same appeal as it once did.

I hadn't been inside of that place since the night that Taggart called me and threatened Mike's life if I didn't comply with his orders.

_Taggart_.

That was another asshole about whom I was unremorseful.

Maybe I _should_ be a little concerned about myself. Two people had died at my hand and yet I was unrepentant.

Maybe I should find a priest to hear my confession.

But that thought was even more ridiculous.

_Bless me Father for I have sinned…I killed two people this month_.

What was he going to say? How could he absolve me of _that_?

And yeah, okay, so maybe I did have some issues of guilt to deal with.

But not tonight.

"You should've seen the look on Ross' face when I told him where we were going," Mike was saying.

"You were bragging about it weren't you?"

"Maybe a little," he admitted. "I wasn't going to be specific, but then Lewis asked me what kind of bathing suit you wear…"

"He asked you that? Why?" I interrupted.

"I don't know," he said with a shrug. "It's a guy thing, I guess. He probably wanted to get a mental image."

"Great," I replied. "So then you told him I wouldn't be wearing anything at all. Now he'll have _that_ mental image."

"He can think about it all he wants to. Ross, too. _I'm_ the only one who gets to see the real thing."

"Yeah, you and however many hundreds of people are going to be at that beach," I reminded him.

"Well, we'll never see any of _them_ again," he reasoned. He put his arm around me and pulled me up against him.

He was in a great mood today, and I was so glad to see it. His headaches had finally subsided and he was able to lay off the painkillers.

I reached up and gave him a kiss, and then saw Bobby and Alex approaching our table.

"Here," Alex said, tossing something down on the table as she slid into the seat across from us.

"What's this?" Mike asked as he picked up the bottle. Then he started laughing. "Sun block?"

"Well, I didn't want you to burn your…you know," she told him with a grin.

"My _what _exactly?" he asked.

"Any part of you that isn't used to seeing the light of day," Bobby elaborated.

"Ha ha," he responded, although I could tell that he was amused. And actually, it wasn't a bad idea.

"So are you guys all packed?" Alex asked.

"What's to pack? I've got my toothbrush and a change of clothes for the flight home," Mike answered.

"We're not going to be naked the whole time," I told him, rolling my eyes at his male exuberance. "The resort isn't for nudists, just the beach."

"What, so you mean I've got to wear clothes at dinner?"

"Yes. Please," I teased. "Well, unless we eat in our room."

"Now you're talking," he said. And I knew that he was only kidding. Mike was a free spirit, but an hour or two each day on the beach would probably be enough.

"So what do you guys have lined up for the week?" I asked them.

And for some reason, their response caused my internal radar to go up.

I can't explain it. Neither of them visibly reacted. Well, maybe they did glance at each other, but they did that a lot.

But even though I couldn't put my finger on it, it was _some_thing.

"We thought that we'd finish working through the backlog," Bobby said.

And yeah, that was probably true. But there wasn't much left. The two of them had worked their asses off over the past two weeks, and we were very nearly caught up.

"Well, stay out of trouble, will you?" Mike remarked. "It's an awfully long plane ride to have to turn around and come back early just to bail you guys out of a jam."

"Us? Get into trouble?" Alex asked innocently.

But she was still off.

"I need to hit the ladies' room," I said suddenly. "Alex?"

"Again with the going-in-pairs thing?" Mike asked.

"Get over it," I replied as I got up from the table. Alex followed me to the restroom, and once we were inside, I pinned her with a look.

She waved me off and looked away.

"Please," she began. "Just don't ask."

"You know that I know something's up," I told her as dread began to filter through me. She nodded her head.

"I won't lie to you, but I don't want to tell you either."

I thought about that for a moment. I appreciated her honesty and I could also tell that she was in a difficult situation.

Was she keeping it from us to save our trip, or because of something else?

"Is it a case?"

"Maybe."

"Are either of you in danger?"

"I don't see how."

"Does it involve me or Mike?"

"Peripherally."

I sighed heavily and ran my hand through my hair.

One fucking week. That was all I wanted. One week away from everything, just me and Mike.

Alex put her hand on my arm until I looked her in the eye again.

"When you need to know, we'll tell you. I promise."

"And it's not dangerous," I stated again.

"No."

I closed my eyes. Mike needed this trip. Bobby and Alex could handle any case that came their way, and she'd just promised me that if it got bad, they'd fill us in.

I had to trust her.

"Okay," I agreed. She nodded at me again, and then I added, "And thank you."

"You'd do the same thing," she answered.

And that was true. Whatever it was that she was doing was for me and Mike.

If the situation were reversed, I'd protect her and Bobby in a heartbeat.

"We'll keep our cell phones on us the whole time," I told her as we left the bathroom. "Alex…"

"I promise," she assured me. And then as we approached the table, she flashed me a grin that relaxed my nerves somewhat.

_It was going to be okay_.

"What are you smirking about?" Mike asked her.

"Well, Carolyn said for us to call if we need you guys. That you'll have your cells."

"Yeah…"

"So, I was just wondering…where exactly are you going to clip your phone?"

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

**Bobby POV**

* * *

While Mike and Carolyn were on a plane headed for Rio, Alex and I worked diligently all day.

_I'd _like to be on my way to Rio.

And the nude beach.

Or any beach for that matter.

Anywhere but here, feeling like I was sneaking around behind Mike's back.

And it wasn't that damn big of a deal, but it was making me feel slightly nauseous.

It shouldn't. I wasn't doing anything wrong. I was helping out John, looking through the life of his murdered fiancé.

It's not like Mike wouldn't be doing the same thing if he were here.

Which he would've been if I'd told him what was going on. But then he wouldn't be on his way to Rio, getting some much-needed R and R.

And so the cycle continued.

"You're going to make yourself sick if you keep that up."

I glanced up from my desk and saw Alex standing in the doorway.

The fading light filtering through the window and fell across the left side of her, throwing her right side into shadow.

The effect was ethereal and exquisite.

"How do you know what I'm thinking about?" I challenged lightly.

Of _course_ she knew.

"Because I know you better than you know yourself," she answered as she crossed the room. She moved behind me and put her hands on my shoulders, squeezing and kneading the tense muscles.

"Yes you do," I agreed on a long sigh. I closed my eyes and let her fingers work their magic.

"So, look at it this way. We've already kept the secret. We may as well make it count, right? Let's find something and help John. Otherwise, it'll be a waste."

"A waste of what? A new ulcer?"

"Of Mike's temper tantrum, because you know that he's going to throw one when he finds out that we were protecting him."

"Let's just make sure we tell him when we're at his house and not ours," I joked. "That way if he breaks something, it's on him."

"There you go," she encouraged. "Laugh about it. You'll feel better. The decision has been made. Let's go with it."

"I know. You're right. So what did you find?" I asked her.

She'd been starting with basic background information while I was looking into the murder itself.

"Um…okay," she said as she walked around in front of me again. She put her hands down flat on the desk and lifted herself so that she was sitting on the edge.

Then she spoke completely from memory.

"Heidi Elizabeth Casper, born April 30, 1970 in Norfolk, Virginia. She was put into foster care three months later when her mother was popped for prostitution and the dad was nowhere to be found. She spent her first four years in the system, then three years with her born-again mom, then the next ten years back in foster care."

I was dumbfounded. Not because I thought that John was a snob, because I didn't. He was a stand-up guy who happened to be rich, but he wasn't defined by his money.

But this girl's life sounded like a recipe for a criminal.

"Education?" I asked.

"She graduated from Lake Taylor High School in Norfolk. Barely. She had a 1.67 GPA."

"And?"

"That's it. No further education."

"She was a sales rep for Caduceus," I stated needlessly. "A very successful one. She was making six figures. With no college degree?"

"No, see that's where it gets interesting," she answered and she had that gleam in her eye. "According to John, Heidi went to UVA. Caduceus thought so, too. They told me that she double majored - pre-med and business."

"Making her a great fit for selling medical equipment to doctors and hospitals."

"Exactly. Only I called Charlottesville. UVA has no record of her ever attending, much less graduating. They're double checking, but with that kind of GPA it seems doubtful. And Caduceus is supposed to be emailing me a copy of Heidi's original resume with supporting documentation."

"Did you let them know that there was a discrepancy?" I asked her. Heidi might have perpetrated a fraud against her employer, but if it turned out to be irrelevant, we weren't going to make a stink about it.

"No, I just said that I was fact-gathering. What did you find out?"

"Ten years and nearly three weeks ago, she was in Denver driving along East Colfax at ten o'clock at night. It's unclear as to what she was doing in that part of town or why she stopped the car, but she did. She pulled off to the side of the road and got out of her car."

"By choice or by force?"

"They don't know. She was found with two bullets in the back of her head. DOA. No witnesses, and no suspects until now."

"Two to the back of the head? And the cops didn't consider that this was a gang-related killing before?"

"Cops called it a mugging."

"Because her purse was missing?"

"No, she still had it. But no one can substantiate how much money she had in her wallet, so it can't be confirmed how much was stolen. When the cops arrived on scene, she had two dollars."

"I have a hard time believing that would be all that she had. She was on a business trip. Surely she was carrying some cash."

"True. But then why wasn't it all taken? A mugger reaches for the wallet and pulls out the cash, but then leaves two dollars?"

"So why do you think they called it a mugging?"

"I think because they didn't know what the hell else to call it."

"Wealthy white woman killed in a known gang territory," she said slowly as she nodded her head. "I'm wondering what kind of politics were at play back then. Was it an election year?"

"I don't know," I said. "But I don't think I like this."

We sat in quiet for a minute, each of us pondering the possible implications of the facts.

Was the murder actually good PR for a city wanting an increased budget to fight crime?

Or was it truly gang-related?

Heidi had possibly lied about her education. What else had she lied about?

And more importantly, why?

This was turning into a lot more than I'd expected.

I let out a deep breath and sat back in my chair, and looked up at Alex.

She was wearing a dress, and it was undoubtedly just to torture me. Now that she was sitting on my desk, the fabric was resting against her legs just above her knees.

I couldn't resist touching her. I slid the material upwards to mid-thigh as my fingers idly stroked her legs.

What can I say? Touching her helped relax me, and we were alone in the office.

"We're one day in and we're finding out that she had secrets," I stated as I continued to trace patterns across her thighs.

"Well, we need to find out if any of these secrets were enough to get her killed."

"Hey! Anybody home?" a voice called out from the front room.

"I think that's Lupo," Alex said, swatting my hand out from under her dress and hopping down off the desk.

"Lupo? Come on back," she said.

**

* * *

**

Lupo POV

It had been a whim to stop by Logan's office.

Carolyn had mentioned dinner a while back, and she'd invited us a couple of times since then, but both times I ended up having to work.

It turned out that the step up to Major Case only meant a better title, but not better hours.

So tonight, when I managed to leave at a decent hour, I gave Connie a call.

"How's your schedule looking tonight?" I asked her.

"I can be out of here by six," she told me. "Why don't you see what Mike and Carolyn are up to?"

Because she wanted to get together with them, too.

We didn't have any couple-type friends, and now that we were out of the closet and could start doing things together in public, we thought that it would be fun to do so.

"Where do you want to go?" I asked her.

"They invited us to McNally's last week. Let's try that. Six-thirty?"

"I'll meet you there."

So then I called Logan, but he didn't answer. His office wasn't far, so I thought I'd stop by.

I hadn't expected to find it so quiet, and I definitely hadn't expected to find Alex sitting on Bobby's desk with his hand up her skirt.

_Must be nice to work with your wife_.

But I didn't want to embarrass them, or myself, so I'd eased my way back into the main room and then called out.

"Lupo? Come on back," Alex said.

"Sorry to interrupt," I told them when I got back to their office. "I was looking for Logan."

"They left for Rio this morning," she told me.

"Oh, that's right. I completely forgot about that. Okay," I said, and then turned to leave. "Sorry to bother you two."

"You're no bother. We're about done for the day. Is there something we can do for you?" Alex asked me.

"No, that's fine. It's um…we've been hit and miss on dinner, so I thought I'd see what they were up to. Hey, you guys want to come? I'm meeting Connie at McNally's in about forty-five minutes."

I watched them as they looked at each other for a long minute, and then Alex turned back to me.

"That sounds great. We've got to finish up a couple of things, but it shouldn't take but a few minutes."

"I'm killing time," I replied with a shrug. "I'll just wait in the other room and we can walk over together."

"You're fine," Bobby said, waving his hand in the direction of one of the visitors' chairs on the other side of his desk. "Have a seat."

So I sat. I hadn't spent much time with these two, but what I knew of them I liked.

I guess I felt closer to the Logans just due to circumstances.

I'd had to follow Mike around and watch him get molested, and then I'd helped Carolyn catch the suspect. Or rather _kill_ the suspect.

Situations like that went a long way towards getting people over lingering awkwardness but I hadn't had that with the Gorens just yet.

But Connie wanted friends, and if these guys were friends with the Logans, then they were good people.

So I ignored the feeling of slight unease as I sat back and watched the two of them look through a stack of papers together.

"I think we need to…"

"Yeah, I will. And you should…"

"Uh huh. You think that…"

"Probably. You want to tell him?"

"It would be better if we wait until…"

"Yeah, you're right."

"If you call…"

"Right, and I'll look for…"

"Uh huh."

"You guys are kidding, right?" I asked at last.

"What?" Alex said as she looked up from the documents.

"Sorry. Never mind," I said with a dismissive wave.

The look on her face had said it all. They _weren't_ kidding.

Each one knew _exactly_ what the other one was talking about.

I chuckled to myself as they went back to work, and then I pulled out my phone to send Connie a text.

_**Logans are in Rio. The Gorens are coming instead**_.

She wouldn't care, but I didn't want to blindside her.

I tucked my phone back into my pocket and looked around the room.

The desk was small, but organized. He had a laptop on one end and endless files on the other, but they seemed to be in some semblance of order.

One wall was lined with bookshelves. I couldn't see all of the titles from where I sat, but it appeared to be an eclectic collection.

Cialdini. King. Freud. Turvey. Clancy.

I wondered if he ever actually had time to read any of them. And then I wondered if maybe he'd let me borrow them some time. Turvey was the foremost authority on criminal profiling.

"Help yourself."

"What?" I asked as I quickly looked away from my focal point.

"A book caught your eye," Goren said. "Have you read Brent Turvey?"

"Uh…yeah. One. Not this one. Good stuff."

"Help yourself," he said again.

Okay, so these two were creeping me out just a little.

"I think we're done here," Alex said as she headed for the door. "Let me grab my coat from my office and then we can head on over to McNally's."

I stood up from the chair and then went to the shelf to get the book.

"You read over the titles, and then your gaze went back to the same book three times," Goren told me with a shrug. "I'm not a…um…a mind reader or anything. I just read body language."

"Good to know," I replied.

Okay, so maybe they weren't creepy. Maybe I was just a little jealous. I thought I was pretty good at reading people, too, but he was clearly in a class all his own.

"You guys coming?" Alex asked as she stood in the doorway. She had her coat in her hand, so Goren stepped over and held it for her, slipping it onto her shoulders and then sliding a hand along her neck to pull her hair from under the collar.

_A mind reader _and_ a gentleman_.

"So what are you two working on?" I asked amiably as we went out the door.

"Nothing," Goren said.

"Backlog," Alex replied at the same time.

"Ah, so it's a secret," I said on a laugh. Hey, I might not be Goren, but I'm no slouch.

"No," Alex said while Goren said, "Yes."

"You two had better get your story straight before you talk to someone who matters." I told them. I watched as Alex gave him a look and then bumped him with her hip as they walked through the lobby.

"We are doing preliminary investigative work on a cold case," Alex told me. "Until we elevate it to official case status, it's sort of off the books."

"Hey, it's fine. We don't have to talk about it."

"What are you working on right now?" Goren asked.

"And how are you getting along with the captain?" Alex added.

"You guys are friend with Ross, right?" I asked them.

"Well, yeah. _Now_. But that doesn't mean we don't know what it's like to work under him."

"Ha, yeah, well, so far so good. He's actually…very…amenable."

"Really," Alex stated disbelievingly.

"Really. Although it's only been a week. Maybe I'm still in the honeymoon phase. Anyway, me and Bernard just made an arrest yesterday. You know, the murdered tourists?"

"I read about that," Goren said. "You caught him already, huh?"

"Her," I corrected. "It seems female murderers are all the rage now."

We got to McNally's and went inside. It was still only a little after six, so we got a table in the back and ordered drinks while we waited for Connie.

"Anyway, so if guys ever need me to do any legwork…you know, if I'm not busy with other cases, I'd be happy to help out."

"A sub-contractor for the sub-contracted?"

"Something like that. I like to stay busy, and I had to take a semester off of night school, so..."

"What kind of classes are you taking?"

"Oh, I'm in law school," I told them. "Or, I was. I guess technically I still am. I think I might be reconsidering, though."

And I wasn't sure why I said that because I hadn't talked to anyone about that yet. It just sort of came out.

"Is that why you took the semester off? To make up your mind?" Alex asked me. The waitress came and brought our beers, so I waited a moment before answering.

"Um…no," I said after a minute. "Money, actually. It's not cheap."

"Is dating a lawyer what caused you to reconsider law school?" Goren asked me.

"No," I answered quickly. "Well, maybe. I don't know. I _like_ being a cop," I finished with a shrug. "The idea of one day soon _not_ being a cop is a little daunting."

"I can understand that," Alex said with a smile. "How long have you and Connie been together?"

"A few months. Four, actually. Four and a half. But we weren't telling anyone until two weeks ago."

"I knew," Goren told me.

"That does not surprise me," I said on a laugh. "Yeah, her boss still doesn't know yet, which kind of bugs me."

Again, the words just came out.

I felt like these two were some kind of snake charmers or something. I'd been alone with them for twenty minutes and they knew more about me than most of the people who'd known me for years.

"Why does that bother you?" Alex asked me.

"He…has some kind of…thing for her, I guess. And maybe I'm being territorial."

"You think she's keeping it under wraps to keep him on the hook?"

"No," I answered, but then I thought about it. Was she? Was she keeping it from Cutter in case she changed her mind and decided that she wanted to be with him?

"I don't think so," I added.

"I don't think so either," Goren said.

"How would you…" I began in puzzled amazement, and then I followed his gaze.

Connie was walking through the restaurant, making a beeline for our table, with Cutter on her heels.

_What the hell_?

As they arrived, I stood up from the table, and so did Goren.

"Mike Cutter, Bobby and Alex Goren," Connie introduced primly as the men shook hands.

"I've heard a lot about you two. It's nice to finally be able to put faces with the names," Cutter said to them and then he looked at me as though he couldn't figure out what I was doing at the table.

"Good to see you again, Counselor," I lied as I shook his hand.

"I hear you made the move to Major Case. Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"So…um…" Cutter said, glancing at Connie.

"Let me pull you up a chair," Goren offered.

"We got some news today, and when I told Mike that I was having dinner with the Gorens, he wanted to come and share it himself," Connie explained.

But I didn't buy it. He didn't know the Gorens. He'd only tagged along so that he could hang out with her after hours.

I turned to sit back down in the booth, but she stopped me with a hand on her arm.

"And you," she said, wrapping her arms around me. "I've been thinking about you all day."

She kissed me firmly, and then slid into the booth with me, taking hold of my hand and leaning against me.

"So," she continued casually as she turned toward Cutter who was now openly staring at us. "Tell them."

"I…um…have two pieces of information actually," he began, and then he forced his eyes away from us so that he could look at the Gorens.

I couldn't keep the shit-eating grin from my face.

"Don't ever doubt me," Connie whispered to me as Cutter continued talking to Bobby and Alex.

"Never again."

"Stoat is dead?" Goren asked Cutter in surprise. "How did that happen?"

"He hung himself in his cell. They found contraband stuffed inside of his mattress. A cell phone."

"Another cell phone?" Alex asked loudly. "How did he get that?"

"The warden says that he's not sure. I understand that he put a price on your head last month?" Cutter said as he looked at Alex.

I hadn't heard about that, so I was surprised to see her nod cautiously.

"Well, it looks like he was getting ready to do it again," Cutter continued. "Only the message hadn't been sent yet. Apparently cell reception in isolation is spotty. He was probably waiting to get time in the yard."

"It didn't go out?" Goren asked. "You're sure?"

"They're sure. They checked the phone itself, and then the log for activity."

"Why would he hang himself in the middle of working out another hit?" I asked.

That part didn't make any sense.

"I don't know," Cutter said with a shrug.

"And why would he leave that information on the phone? He'd have to know that it would be found," Goren added.

"I don't…know," Cutter replied slowly. "Look, I thought that you guys would just be happy to know that he's no longer a threat."

"He's been in isolation, supposedly with no privileges. I already thought that he was no longer a threat," Alex said smartly. "What else?"

"What?"

"You said two things. What else?"

"Irene Weston. You two both wrote letters of recommendation for a light sentence, right?"

"That's right," Goren said, although he still appeared shaken by the news about Stoat.

"She cut a deal. Three years in minimum security. And after taking into account all of the circumstances and the elapsed time, Connecticut agreed to deal as well, letting her serve her time concurrently. She should be out by the time her son hits thirteen."

"That's great," Alex said. "Wow, you sure know how to start with the low blow and end with the band-aid."

"Subtlety and tact are not in his nature," Connie said with a laugh.

"Well, I'm going to go. Enjoy your dinner."

"No, stay," I offered. I suddenly didn't mind him so much now that he knew that I'd won.

"Maybe some other time."

Cutter walked away, and I looked at Connie.

"Talk about a low blow…"

"He…asked me out…three times in the past couple of days," she admitted. "I told him that I was involved, but I don't think he believed me, so when this opportunity kind of fell into my lap…"

"I am not complaining," I told her. I kissed her quickly and then turned to the Gorens. "So, who's this Irene person? A friend?"

"An old girlfriend," Alex answered. "Who got caught up in a bad situation."

"Sometimes lies can get away from you," Goren added.

"Money or love?" I asked. "Because it's almost always one of the two."

And then Goren turned suddenly to his wife. "Hey, Alex…"

"Uh huh," she replied thoughtfully.

Connie looked at me and raised her eyebrow.

"What?" she whispered to me.

"I have no idea. They do that a lot."

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

**Alex POV**

* * *

My amusement at watching Connie out her relationship with Lupo was short-lived.

Cutter's news trumped it.

Stoat was dead.

And he'd been trying to put out another hit on me.

He hated Bobby that much? That he couldn't think of anything else but revenge?

It was sad. And infuriating. And a little scary.

Because the last time he'd put a hit on me, I'd been snatched by a lunatic with a penchant for explosives.

And that was _after_ he'd shot at me through our bedroom wall.

And _before_ he'd nearly blown us up in the car.

Frankie had been a relentless little bastard, and I wasn't sorry for one second that Mike had taken him out.

But apparently Stoat hadn't been ready to give up on his dream of taking me away from Bobby.

And then Lupo asked a vital question, one that was on the tip of my tongue.

"Why would he hang himself in the middle of working out another hit?" he'd asked.

No one had an answer, to that or to why Stoat didn't erase the information from his phone before killing himself.

And why? Seriously.

_Why_ would he kill himself? It didn't fit his psychopathy.

Cutter went on to tell us about Irene, but I was only partially listening. I was still stuck on Stoat and the hit that wasn't.

I mean, I was happy for Irene. I didn't like her, but I felt sorry for her.

Or rather, I felt sorry for Dylan. He deserved to have a mother, and as messed up in the head as Irene was about men, I did think that she was a good mother.

Cutter left us alone, picking up on the fact that he was clearly the fifth wheel, and then Lupo asked us about Irene.

"Money or love? Because it's almost always one of the two."

And he was right. But I wasn't thinking about Irene any more. I was thinking about Heidi.

I thought back over what we'd learned about her today.

She'd had no money to speak of while growing up. No money, no real parents, not much education…and yet by the time she'd met John, she was sophisticated and well-employed and unconcerned with his money. And he had _a lot_ of money.

"Hey Alex…" Bobby said, and it was like he was reading my mind. Despite everything we'd learned in the past twenty minutes, we were both back around to Heidi.

"Uh huh," I answered with a nod.

Was Heidi after John's money? Had she simply been killed before she'd been able to follow through with a con?

If so, that was going to crush him.

He'd been mourning her death for ten years. He'd dismissed other women because he didn't believe that anyone could love him the way that Heidi had.

But what if she hadn't?

I heard Connie and Lupo whispering, and I realized that we were being rude.

"I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head. "You just made us think about something with this other…non-case thing…that we're working on."

"Non-case?" Connie asked as she signaled to the waitress.

"They're doing preliminary investigative work on a cold case and until they elevate it to official case status, it's sort of off the books," Lupo explained, and I laughed out loud at his verbatim recount of my earlier explanation.

"Well, when it gets _on_ the books," Connie said. "Tell Lupo. Or give me a call."

At my raised eyebrow, Lupo leaned across the table and mock-whispered, "She's still a little miffed that I waited so long to fill her in on the last case."

"It's not that," she argued. "I thought that maybe I could help. You know, expedite the process for wire taps, warrants, that kind of thing."

"It's out of state," Bobby told her. "But thanks."

"So are you guys going to be taking a road trip?" Lupo asked.

Bobby and I looked at each other before I answered, "It's still in the…"

"Preliminary stages," Lupo supplied. "I get it. We can change the topic."

"We're not normally so tight-lipped, it's just that this one is…"

"Of a sensitive nature," Bobby finished for me.

I felt a little bad because they were making the effort to be friendly and yet we were coming across as standoffish because we didn't want to talk about the case.

"Hey, you're talking to a cop and an ADA who practically live together. Every other sentence around our place is _I can't talk about that right now_."

"Yeah, no problem," Connie added.

The waitress brought more drinks and took our dinner order, so then we settled into a more relaxed conversation, and all in all it was an enjoyable evening.

"I like them," Bobby said to me once we were back in our apartment. "When I first realized that they were together, it didn't seem like they'd fit, but after spending an evening with them, they seem…I don't know."

"Meant for each other?" I supplied. And then I couldn't resist teasing him. "Are you getting all sappy on me, Bobby?"

"No. You know what I mean. He's so…and she's so…"

"You're unusually inarticulate tonight," I told him. I walked over to where he sat on the couch and he pulled me down onto his lap. "What's on your mind?"

"Heidi," he admitted. "And John. I think I'm past worrying about what Mike's going to think. Now I'm worried about what we're going to find."

"You mean how he's going to feel about the fact that she lied to him?"

"That, and the possibility that she was lying about more than just her education."

"We need to be sure before we say anything," I said. I settled my head in the crook of his neck and ran my hand up along his jaw.

"We promised we'd keep him in the loop."

"I know. But only the confirmed loop. I don't want to pull him into any theoretical loop."

"You're doing that creative thinking thing again. But I like it," he told me. He turned his face into my hand and kissed my palm. A shiver ran through me at the chaste contact.

"So tomorrow, we'll get UVA to look through their records again. And we'll widen the search to see if we can track Heidi during that time period. If she wasn't in college, where was she?"

"And we'll get the autopsy report," he added. "I'm curious to see if there were any other marks on her body."

"You mean like was there a struggle? Did she put up a fight for her purse?"

"Right. Because how many muggers have you heard about who do two taps to the back of the head?"

"I wonder why Denver PD was willing to let it go at that," I mused, letting my eyes fall closed as Bobby began running his hand over my hair, weaving his fingers through the strands.

With his other hand, he'd pushed up the hem of my dress again and was now leisurely moving his fingers over my thighs.

"You may be right. It may have been politics. Or just shoddy detective work."

We'd certainly seen that before.

"I'm going to get John to tell me his story. I want to know what he knows. Where they met, what she said, what their life together was like…"

"Good idea. We'll do that together. I'm curious to hear what he has to say, too," Bobby agreed.

"We need to find out who her friends were. Maybe talk to some of them."

"Uh huh," he murmured.

He slipped his hand further underneath my dress and I sucked in a breath as his hand scraped first across and then beneath my panties.

"I think we were talking about a case here," I said, putting up merely a token protest.

And my objection lost all validity when I shifted one leg to allow him better access.

"We _were_ talking about it," he replied. He tipped my head back and brought his lips onto mine for a scorching kiss. Then he pulled back and added, "Now we're doing this."

I wasn't going to argue with him.

Because I love solving cases. The thrill of the hunt and the excitement of unraveling a mystery…it's the second most meaningful thing in my life.

But I love doing _this_ with him even more.

"Is that okay with you?" he asked as he shifted us yet again, this time pushing me back onto the cushions.

"Well…if we have to."

He smirked at my response, but then was suddenly serious as he looked down at me.

"When you came into my office earlier…and the light hit you…I swear, you looked like an angel."

"Well, we know better, don't we?"

"Angel on the outside. Devil on the inside," he whispered as he gently traced his finger across my lips. "You're the perfect woman."

I had a response ready for him, but it was lost when he leaned down to kiss me again.

I grabbed his shirt in an effort to pull it over his head, but I hadn't unbuttoned it yet, so I was having trouble, but he was still kissing me and my hands were only partially cooperating because he's just so good at it…

And then came a knock on the door.

Visitors were proving to be as annoying as cell phones, with equally bad timing.

"It's after eleven," Bobby said as he sat up on the couch, instantly on alert.

"It can't be a neighbor. We weren't even being loud yet," I grumbled as I got up and adjusted my dress to its intended position.

Bobby grabbed his gun from the side table, so I did the same and then he looked through the peephole.

"It _is_ the neighbor," he told me in confusion.

He tucked his weapon into the back of his pants and then waited while I put mine back into its holster and set it on the table before he unlocked the door.

"Mr. Rensini," Bobby greeted. "Is something wrong?"

Al Rensini was an elderly gentleman who lived across the hall. He wasn't one who had ever complained about us, but that's probably only because he's more than a little bit hard of hearing.

He was also the resident busybody, so why he was at our door at this time of night had my curiosity piqued.

"Somebody was knocking on your door," he told us in his typically loud voice.

"When?" Bobby asked him.

"A few hours ago. I thought that you might want to know."

"Why, did he look suspicious?" I asked him.

"What?" he questioned, turning to look at me.

"Did he look suspicious?" I repeated.

"No, but he looked suspicious!" he answered.

I bit back a smile, and instead looked at Bobby.

He looked worried. And then it hit me, and I felt like an idiot for having forgotten.

He was thinking about Stoat and his supposedly unsent hit request.

"There's no way, Bobby," I said quietly. "It didn't get sent."

"That one. What if one already went out? One that he _did_ take the time to delete from the phone?"

"It would be on the log."

"Do you trust the warden to have been thorough? Because I don't."

Mr. Rensini was still standing in our doorway, looking back and forth between the two of us.

"What did he look like?" Bobby asked him.

"Who?"

"The man at the door!"

"Black suit, black shoes, black sunglasses. He had dark hair, too, slicked back with all that crap you kids put in your hair these days," he retorted, and then he stood up on his toes and looked at Bobby's hair. "Although you don't, do you?"

"Was he tall?" I asked.

"No! He was tall, like him," he answered, pointing at Bobby. "Only thinner."

"So he knocked, and then what?"

"Then _what_?" Mr. Rensini shouted.

"What did he do after he knocked?"

"He turned the knob!"

And despite my amusement at the entire conversation, his last words sent a shot of trepidation through me.

He'd checked the knob? Who would do that?

"It's a good thing for you two that you lock your door!" Mr. Rensini yelled. "Because he tugged on it for a minute, and then he looked around and pulled something out of his jacket! But that's when Mrs. Fleur came home, and you know how she likes to yell at those damn cats, so she was causing quite the fuss and so then the spook took off!"

"Spook?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at Bobby. "You think he looked like CIA?"

"CIA. FBI. AARP. What the hell do I know?"

"Okay. Thank you, Mr. Rensini!" Bobby said, getting ready to close the door. And then he added, "Can you describe him to a sketch artist? If we bring someone out here tomorrow?"

"A sketch artist? What the hell good will that do?"

"It might help us find out who he is!"

"Well, don't you think a picture would be better than a sketch?"

Bobby and I looked at each other again as the old man shuffled back across the hall. He left his door open, so we waited, and after a minute he came back with a digital camera in his hand.

"I can't figure out how to get the damn pictures off of this thing, but I got a good shot of him out the front window after he left! It's four stories up, but this thing has one of those damn zoom lens things on it!"

Thank God for nosy neighbors.

"Give me a minute and I'll get the picture off!" I called to him as I walked toward my computer with his camera.

"It's past my bed time! You can give it back to me tomorrow!"

And then he went across the hall and slammed his door.

Bobby closed ours and slid the deadbolt home before following me to the computer.

"What do you think?" I asked him as I found a cord that fit the old man's camera. "Random? Or do you really think it's Stoat?"

"I don't know what to think. We're not listed. The address wouldn't be easy to come by. I guess it could've been random," he said, although neither of us really believed it.

And then I had the picture up on the screen.

"Who the hell is that?" I asked slowly.

"I have no idea. But I think we call Lupo and get him to come out and dust for prints."

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Lupo and Bernard showed up at our place within thirty minutes of my call.

I didn't know that he was going to call his partner, but I guess I should've expected that.

I had rarely ever gone anywhere without _Eames_, and if I did, it usually meant that I was going to get into trouble.

"Nice digs, Goren," Bernard said when he came into the apartment.

"Thanks. Um…we really just need prints off the door and the knob. He didn't actually get in."

"That you know of," Bernard stated.

"Well, yeah," I said slowly, annoyed with myself for not having considered the possibility.

Rensini had seen the guy leave, but had he come back?

"We would know," Alex spoke up. "We've been through this before."

"You've had people break into your apartment?"

"You have no idea," I said with a shake of my head. "But she's right. The lock is intact. There's no evidence that it was tampered with."

"What about the windows? Balcony? Fire escape?" Lupo suggested.

"No one's been in here," Alex insisted.

"But you think this has something to do with Stoat," Lupo stated.

At Bernard's quizzical look, Lupo gave him the rundown on Stoat. Of course, he only knew the latest, but that was really all that he needed to know.

"So this Stoat guy wants you dead?" Bernard asked bluntly. I cringed internally at his choice of wording, but Alex was calm.

"He tried a month ago. He sent out a bulk request, and got a taker. Obviously he failed."

"Is that guy still around?"

"Logan killed him," I told them.

_Another debt I owed him_, I thought.

"Okay, so we can remove _that_ guy from our suspect list," Lupo said. "But we'll go to the prison tomorrow and see what else we can dig up."

"Thanks, I appreciate that," I said.

"And we'll get on the door," Bernard added. "We'll get what we can off of it and run them against yours and see what's left. Who else has been here recently?"

Alex and I looked at each other. Who _hadn't_ been here recently?

"Mike and Carolyn, Liz Rodgers, John Strathmore, um…I guess Mr. Rensini, our neighbor would've touched the door, too."

"This ought to be fun," Bernard said. "It'll be like AFIS Where's Waldo."

And it pretty much would. They pulled nine usable prints off of the knob and the surrounding area.

"I'll get on this in the morning," Lupo told us. "With the exception of your neighbor and Strathmore, everyone else should be in the system."

"Here, take prints off of this," Alex told him, offering him the camera. "It'll have Mr. Rensini's. That way you'll have almost everyone you need for exclusionary purposes."

"Hopefully the lurker's prints will pop," Bernard said with a shrug. "If not, we'll get John's prints, too, so that we can isolate the perp."

"Thanks," I told them both.

"Lock up tight, and try to get some rest, okay?" Lupo said.

We sent them on their way and I made a fifth pass through the apartment to make sure that everything was secure. The blinds were closed, the windows were locked…

"Bobby, come to bed. Nothing else is going to happen tonight."

And she was right.

Of course that didn't keep me from lying awake most of the night, holding Alex while she slept.

Tuesday we got back to work on the life and times of Heidi Casper.

But my guilt meter was back up again this morning, too.

We were keeping information from John, and we were keeping the case a secret from Mike.

And now we had this new threat that may or may not actually be a threat.

I'd promised Mike that we'd call him at the first sign of trouble, but I couldn't bring myself to rope him into this just yet.

He and Carolyn had spent most of yesterday just _getting_ to Rio. I wasn't about to call him on his first full day there to cry to him about the latest development in the drama that seemed to plague our lives.

Alex and I could handle this ourselves.

"Did you get the autopsy report yet?" Alex asked me as she stood in my doorway.

I had a feeling that sooner or later she and I were going to be sharing an office.

Right now, we each had our own, but we typically spent more time working together than apart. What can I say? We were used to staring at each other from across our joined desks.

And it didn't matter how much time I spent looking at her. It never got old.

"Detective Rollins with the Denver PD said that he would fax it within the hour. He sounded less than thrilled."

"Well, we are poaching on his territory."

"If he would do his job…"

"I know," she replied with a smile. She crossed the room and came to her usual spot, which was to perch on the corner of my desk. "When we get it, maybe we should pay Rodgers a visit. We can black out the name and show her the report."

"Okay," I agreed. "Did you hear back from UVA?"

"She absolutely without a doubt has never taken a class there. In fact, she never even applied there."

I nodded and looked back at the report in front of me. It was an Equifax credit report, and showed that Heidi had been in a considerable amount of debt prior to her death.

"She had four credit cards," I read aloud. "But get this. The billing address for three of them was a PO Box, but the fourth was listed as the Malloy Towers in Atlantic City."

"Let me guess. The one that went to Malloy Towers had a zero balance."

"Close," I answered with a nod. "The balance was paid in full two weeks after her death, and it was only a few hundred dollars."

"And the others?"

"Several thousand dollars on each, and the debts were written-off after her death because she had no family."

"So John paid off the debt that he knew about just because he's that kind of guy. The others were hidden from him. What else?"

"She had a credit score of five-twenty."

"Ouch."

"Uh huh. She rented an apartment in Pomona, New Jersey from 1988 until 1997. After that, her records only show the PO Box in Atlantic City and Malloy Towers."

"So that's when she moved in with John," she deduced.

We knew that John lived on the top floor of the hotel now, so knowing that she'd used that address, it was likely that he'd lived there even back then.

"Looks like it. We'll get his version and see if the dates match up."

"So her name was on an apartment lease in New Jersey during the time that she supposedly spent in Charlottesville. I wonder how she got away with that."

"I'm guessing that no one doubted her," I said with a shrug. "How many times did you run a credit check on guys that you went out with?"

"Every time," she said with a smirk. "Even you."

"You did not," I replied, getting up from my chair and moving to stand between her legs.

She wasn't wearing a dress today, but that didn't keep me from running my hand along her denim-covered thigh.

There were definitely benefits to no longer working at 1PP.

"No, I didn't," she admitted. "I already knew everything about you."

"Right. So I'm betting that John felt like he knew everything about her. He thought he'd found his soul mate."

"You think she researched him?" she asked suddenly. "Oh my God, is this going to be another Rhonda?"

"I don't know," I said, shaking my head. "But I really don't like this. The more we find, the worse she looks."

**

* * *

**

Strathmore POV

I managed to make it through the entire day Monday without calling the Gorens.

And I'll admit it. It was hard as hell.

I actually picked up the phone no less than a dozen times, but I somehow was able to abstain from pushing the buttons.

I wanted to know what they knew. I wanted to be sure that Heidi's name didn't get dragged through the mud.

But I was also slightly nervous.

Because with the latest developments out in Denver, I realized that maybe I had been a little taken in by her. I hadn't been quite as thorough as I probably should've been.

In short, I took her at her word. And I'd learned early on in life what a bad idea that was.

Always, _always _follow-up. Always, _always_ check resources.

How much following up had I done on Heidi?

But the question had only barely entered my mind when it was immediately followed by guilt.

The Denver PD had thrown suspicion onto her character, and now I was questioning everything I'd ever known about her.

What kind of man did that make me? How could I doubt the woman I'd loved?

I played mental ping-pong throughout the day Monday, and I'd instructed Jessica to leave me alone.

"Absolutely no calls come through except from Bobby or Alex Goren," I'd told her first thing in the morning. And then I'd added, "Or Mike or Carolyn Logan."

Not that I thought they'd call, but if they did, I wanted to hear from them.

But no one called.

Monday night had the potential to be a repeat of my night in Vegas nearly three weeks earlier.

I left the office at five and headed for home, which was conveniently located thirty-three floors above one of Atlantic City's premier casinos. _My_ casino.

So I downed two shots of bourbon, took off my tie and opened the top button on my shirt, then took the elevator down to play some cards.

And as usual, I had a gathering of women to pick from within the first thirty minutes. Being rich does have its advantages, and one of them is that I never have to look long or hard for sex.

But as much as I wanted to get lost from reality, I couldn't do it.

And what was frightening, horrifying even, was that normally when I was in this kind of mood, the kind where I couldn't settle on any one woman because none seemed quite right, the women didn't seem right because they weren't _her_.

They weren't _Heidi_. I would never find anyone like her.

But tonight, after several more shots and eight winning hands of Blackjack, I realized that I wasn't looking for Heidi amongst the throng of lovely ladies.

I was looking for Alex.

That thought, that very _sobering _thought, had me rushing for the elevator and back to the sanctuary of my home.

Alone.

What was I doing?

What the hell was wrong with me?

_Alex? Really_?

Bobby would kill me if he knew what I was thinking, and justifiably so. He'd welcomed me into their world with open arms, and I was going to secretly lust after his wife?

Maybe I _should_ tell him. I deserved to have my ass beat.

Instead, I stripped out of my suit, grabbed the remainder of the bottle of bourbon I'd opened earlier, and settled onto the couch.

Then I drank myself into oblivion.

Tuesday morning came sooner than expected, but that was usually how it worked when too much liquor was involved. I opened my eyes, my mind still swamped with images from my nocturnal visions…well-toned legs…lovely smile…pink toenails…

I forced the mental picture where it belonged, which was _out_ of my head, and got into the shower.

The scalding hot water brought me to the here and now. I had thirty minutes to pull myself together and get down to my car.

I'd become quite adept at plowing through a hang over, although I had to wonder how much more efficient I might be if I was a little kinder to my brain cells.

How much better would my mind work if I didn't pollute it on a regular basis?

I wasted little time on that improbable situation and instead finished getting myself ready for another day at the office.

I would _not_ call the Gorens today. If they didn't call me by tomorrow, then I'd call.

"Rough night, sir?" Rocco asked me when I left the building and climbed into the waiting car.

"It was fine."

"Are you sure that you're okay?"

"I said I'm fine, Rocco," I said sharply. I pulled a bottle of water from the fridge in the back of the car and downed it, along with four aspirin.

For some reason, my mind chose that moment to replay Mike's words in my head.

_"She was an alcoholic for as long as I remember."_

And now here I was. Acting like our mother. Mike still hadn't talked much about her, but I got the overwhelming feeling that emulating her was not a good thing.

"I'm sorry," I said to Rocco. He was an employee, but he was also very loyal and had been with me for a long time. Since before Heidi. "It _was_ a rough night. I've got a lot on my mind."

"No problem," he answered agreeably. "Let me know if there's anything that I can do."

"I…may go into the city later today," I told him.

I wasn't sure if I could wait for Wednesday. And I wasn't sure if a phone call would cut it.

I had hired them, right? I deserved a status report whenever I wanted one, didn't I? Shouldn't that be how it worked?

I didn't want to be an ass about it, but I did want to know. I _needed_ to know.

"I'll make sure the chopper is ready," he told me as he pulled up in front of my office building.

I felt marginally better when I got out of the car. Just because I was in the process of self-destructing, that didn't mean that I had to be rude to Rocco. Or Jessica.

"Good morning, Mr. Strathmore!" she said cheerfully as I crossed the lobby.

"Good morning. How does my schedule look today?"

"Oh, I…I cleared it for you," she answered hesitantly.

"You did?"

"Rocco mentioned that you might need a light week this week, so…"

I nodded slowly and then turned and headed for the elevator. Maybe he _was_ more than just a paid employee.

"And if anyone calls," I began, glancing back over my shoulder.

"Only the Gorens or the Logans. I've got it."

I went up to my office and spent the morning clearing up loose ends on an acquisitions deal. I had people who took care of things like this, but I liked to take a personal look-see on all of the deals made by Malloy Enterprises.

It was nearly lunch time, and only minutes after my headache had subsided, when Jessica buzzed my office.

"Mr. Strathmore, it's Mr. Goren on line three."

"Thank you," I told her, quickly jabbing the button and picking up the designated line.

"Bobby!" I answered exuberantly, doing my best to not seem nervous. However, Bobby was too smart to buy the act, and I surely came across as just the opposite.

"Relax John," he said. "We just wanted to check in, and to see if you have some time to meet with us. We'd like to go over some things with you."

"Good or bad?"

"I'm not sure at this point. But we do need you to take a trip down memory lane with us," he told me hesitantly.

And I'd known this was coming. In fact that was probably why I'd had so much to drink last night.

_Although that didn't explain my erotic dream about his wife…_

"John?"

"Yeah. Sorry. I can come to your office this afternoon if you'd like. Around four?"

"That would be great. We'll see you then."

I hung up with him and immediately called Rocco. I wasn't going to be useful sitting around here. I may as well go on into Manhattan and kill some time.

That way, if they were ready early, I'd be there.

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Saturday night special :)**

**Liz POV**

* * *

"So what exactly am I looking for?"

I had a copy of a faxed autopsy report in my hand, and the name of the decedent had been blacked out.

It was dated ten years ago.

"Something out of the ordinary," Alex answered.

She and Bobby had arrived in my office a few minutes before. We'd spent precious little time on pleasantries, but I appreciated that they had business to take care of.

I had business to take care of, too, but I'd promised myself to always make time for them.

My near-breakdown from a couple of weeks ago had caused me to take a step back and analyze my life a little better.

Work was important. Scratch that. Work was _very_ important.

I love what I do.

Considering that I work with dead people, it's often forgotten how vital a coroner's job can be.

Oh, I've heard the jokes:

_The easiest job in the world has to be coroner. It's surgery on dead people, so what's the worst thing that could happen? If everything goes wrong, maybe you'll get a pulse. _

But it's not about that.

It's about getting justice for the victim, or providing the survivors with potentially life-saving information.

It's about saving the _next_ victim of a serial killer or rapist by giving the detectives fundamental pieces of information so that they can catch the perpetrator.

And I never, ever forget that the body on the table is someone's loved one.

But as important as work is, life is more important.

Danny…he came first now, and I have to admit that I wasn't able to say that in my not-so-distant past. But it was the truth now.

And the Gorens…the Logans…they were pretty high on my list, too. And even though they no longer worked for the department, I would always offer my assistance when they asked.

I didn't want to one day end up on a coroner's table and have no one who cared that I was there.

Because Danny was right. There was no such thing as caring too much. If it caused me to get a little emotional from time to time, well…I'd just learn how to deal with that.

Because the alternative was even more frightening.

So when Alex and Bobby had shown up, I gave Bobby a nod and spouted off the summary of my current object of examination, because he was usually interested.

_Death by autoerotic asphyxiation_.

He was typically curious, but he kept his perusal short, choosing instead to tip his head toward my office and ask for a moment of my time.

"I'm not sure what would be out of the ordinary," I replied to Alex's request. "Two gunshot wounds to the back of the head. I'd say the cause of death is fairly obvious."

"Liz…" Alex began.

"I'm looking," I assured her.

My curiosity was up as to why they'd felt the need to black out the name.

I'm a doctor. Confidentiality is my thing.

And yes, I'd made a horrible mistake last summer, but Bobby and I were past that. I felt confident that I had regained his trust.

So this was something else.

But whatever the cause, it was also irrelevant. It was need-to-know, and presently, I didn't need to know.

"Is this everything?" I asked as I reread the report again.

"Yes. Why?"

"There's a note here that mentions a swab was taken from the victim's lips, but no indication as to why, or the results."

"Evidence of a foreign substance?" Alex asked.

"Probably. Or signs of trauma, but if there was, it's not spelled out in the report. That happens sometimes when the COD is cut and dried. Some MEs don't worry about other details because it feels like a waste of time."

"You never do that," Bobby said. His words warmed my heart, and I smiled at him appreciatively.

"No, I don't," I agreed. "But then again, most MEs don't have the likes of you two on their ass all the time," I added with a smile. "You guys would never let me get away with it."

"So, a swab was taken from her lips. What else?"

"Scraping along her knees and palms. Tiny granules of concrete."

"She was on the sidewalk, down on her hands and knees…" Alex muttered.

I looked up in time to watch the exchange between the two of them.

It never ceased to amaze me how much time they spent looking at each other, and how many words could pass unspoken.

"No sign of sexual assault?" Bobby asked without tearing his gaze from Alex.

"No," I answered. "They didn't send you any pictures?"

"No. I asked for everything, but he wasn't very accommodating. We may have to make a trip."

"Well, if you do, and you get pictures, send them to me. Maybe I can be a little more helpful."

"You already were helpful," Alex said. "Thanks. Sorry to take up your time."

"Stop by any time," I replied as I walked them into the hallway. "Alex, are we still on for lunch Saturday?"

"I'm not sure," she answered. "Let me see how this case goes. I'll call you Friday, okay?"

"Or sooner if you want me to look at something."

I watched them walk away and then went back to work.

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

"What are you thinking?" Alex asked me as we left the morgue.

"Incomplete autopsy information…no accompanying photographs…I don't know. I'm becoming less and less impressed with the Denver PD."

"Scrapes on her hands and knees. I can see the shooter making her get onto her knees, but on her hands, too? That's not the usual m.o."

"And what would have been on her lips?" I questioned. "I can't imagine that the perp would've kissed her, especially considering that there was no sign of sexual assault."

"We're going to Denver, aren't we?" she asked me.

And I knew what she meant. Neither of us minded making the trip, but if we went out there, we were going to have to call Mike first.

"I think so. We can decide after we talk to John," I said as I checked my watch. "We've got time to go by 1PP before heading back to the office. Let's go see what Lupo and Bernard found out about Stoat."

We rode in virtual silence to MCS.

I held Alex's hand throughout the ride though, which was something that felt like second nature now. A lot of times, our car rides were quiet, but I never wanted her to think that I wasn't _with_ her.

"I still know where the blind spots are," I teased her quietly as we made our way through the parking garage. "And that one alcove behind the stairwell door…"

"I had no idea that you think about sex as much as you do," she retorted. "You're like a teenager."

"I think about sex with _you_," I amended. "And can you blame me? I mean, you're pretty good at it."

She laughed at me and shook her head as she pushed the button for the elevator.

"Pretty good?" she repeated challengingly.

My suggestive reply was masked by the sound of a car screeching to a halt, and then the door slamming closed.

My heart pounded as footsteps thundered toward us. I whirled around, drawing my gun and pointing it in the direction from which the noise had come.

Alex was beside me with her weapon drawn as well.

I would've much preferred to shove her behind me but that wouldn't have gone over well.

In fact, it wouldn't have happened at all.

If I'd made any motion to step in front of her, she probably would've shot me first and then worried about whoever else was in the garage with us.

As the footsteps came nearer, I was thinking _fucking Stoat…being dead is still too good for him..._

"Whoa!" Lupo shouted when he came around the corner and found himself on the wrong end of two .45s.

"What the hell are you doing racing through the parking garage?" I shouted. I reholstered my gun, but my heart was still hammering in my chest.

"I was…um…shit!" he yelled. We'd clearly thrown him for a loop. "What the hell am _I _doing? What the hell are _you two_ doing?" he countered.

"We were coming up to see you," Alex told him. She appeared completely calm, although I couldn't tell for sure if she was faking it or not.

"I'm late coming back from lunch," he explained. "Bernard just called and said that Ross was yelling for me, so...shit," he said again. By this time, the elevator doors were opened, and so the three of us got on.

"We're sorry," Alex said, giving me a nudge with her elbow.

"Yeah, um…I'm still a little jumpy with this whole Stoat thing."

"It's fine," he said as he ran his hand through his hair. "Although you two might need to buy me five more minutes with Ross so that I can go change my pants."

I chuckled at him, relieved that he was able to make a joke since I realized now how on edge I must be to have drawn my weapon in the police parking garage.

Did I really think that Stoat would come after us here? _If even at all_?

"I'll do you one better," I told Lupo. "We'll tell Ross that we caught up with you down here, and that you've been briefing us on what you found out about Stoat."

"Oh, well that's…"

"So brief us," I interrupted. "You've got eight more floors."

"Okay. The warden was right about no other activity on Stoat's phone. But there's a reason for that."

"What?"

"It's a new phone. It was just purchased last week."

"Okay…" I said slowly. I was pretty sure that I wasn't going to like what else he had to say.

"You know a girl named Candi Ayers?" he asked us. I caught Alex's eye and we gave each other a nod. _The stripper girlfriend of Stoat who'd taken a swing at Carolyn._

"Yeah," I said. "Please tell me that she has not been visiting Stoat."

"No. Not on the record anyway. But she's visiting somebody because she's the one who purchased the phone they found in Stoat's mattress."

"Why isn't she in jail?" Alex asked him.

"She did thirty days."

"For assault?"

Lupo shrugged.

"She offered testimony against Stoat. The DA didn't consider her to be a potential repeat offender."

"That's great," Alex muttered as we got off of the elevator and walked through the squad room. "So Stoat couldn't have visitors, but he did have contact with other prisoners who could have visitors."

"Something like that," Lupo agreed. "I'll get to the bottom of it."

"Lupo!" Ross shouted across the room.

"Wow, that brings back memories, doesn't it?" I said to Alex with a grin. "Although with us, it was always _detective_."

Lupo chuckled quietly, but quickly headed for his boss' office.

"I'll get back with you later," he added over his shoulder.

Ross caught sight of us, and I gave him an acknowledging nod. He very nearly smiled at us before stepping back to allow Lupo inside.

"Can you guys stick around for a few minutes?" Ross asked us. "I was getting ready to call you, but this will be better in person."

"Sure," Alex told him. Her voice sounded confident, but for some reason his tone had me worried.

Why would he need to talk to us? It had to be about Stoat.

I shoved down my anxiety and made the rounds with Alex, saying hello to a few detectives.

After ten minutes, Lupo came out of the office with Bernard on his heels.

"You two are like a get out of jail free card," Bernard said to us. "Lupes mentioned your names and all of a sudden it's okay to take a two hour lunch."

"I said that I was sorry about that," Lupo said quickly to Bernard. "I got held up in traffic."

"More likely you got held up by a five-nine ADA," Bernard muttered, but he was laughing.

He liked to push things, but he seemed to have a good sense of humor about it all. Lupo just rolled his eyes at him, and then grabbed a file off of his desk.

"We've got to follow up on something from the tourist thing," Lupo explained. "But when we're done, we're going to pay Candi Ayers a visit. I'll call you later."

"Okay. Thanks."

"Bobby, Alex," Ross called out. We went into Ross' office and he closed the door behind us.

"Lupo told me that he was doing some checking into this Stoat thing," Ross began.

"I'm sorry," Alex said. "We should've run that by you first. We…called Lupo last night to get the fingerprints, and…"

"And he caught a scent so now he's running with it. It's fine," Ross said. "He said there's a possibility that Stoat's girlfriend was sneaking him in the phones?"

"Looks that way," I said.

"He hasn't yet determined whether or not the hit request went out?" Ross asked carefully.

My radar was up. Something was going on.

"Not yet. It didn't on the phone that he had, but we're wondering now if maybe he had another phone," Alex explained.

She looked at me and I could see the worry on her face. Her radar was up, too.

"Captain," I began.

"Danny," he corrected. "I'm not your captain any more. You won a hundred bucks off of me Saturday night. I think you can call me by my first name."

"Danny," Alex said, jumping in to ask what I couldn't. "What is it? You know something. Just say it."

"I think maybe Stoat _did_ get the word out," he answered. "I didn't put it all together before because I didn't know about the guy outside your door, or about Stoat's cell phone until Bernard was bringing me up to speed while we waited for Lupo. But now that I know…"

"Captain, please," I said again.

I had begun to break out into a cold sweat and his round-about way of stating the facts wasn't helping.

"We had a breach of the computer system yesterday. The techs were able to narrow it down that the personnel files were hacked into."

"All of them?" I asked as my heart sank.

Our new, unpublished address was listed there because it was where they mailed our checks.

"Members of the department with a recent separation of service," he clarified.

"So _our_ files were accessed," Alex stated, clearly thinking the same thing as me.

"_Your_ file," Ross said, looking directly at Alex. "Most of the files were opened for an average of seven point three seconds."

"And mine?"

"Yours was viewed for nearly four minutes."

We'd been holding onto the hope that the man outside of our door last night was purely innocent. Stoat would have no way of knowing where we presently lived.

So much for that idea…

TBC...


	10. Chapter 10

**Alex POV**

* * *

Bobby and I left Ross' office shortly after he dropped the veritable bombshell.

Someone had hacked into the damn NYPD department computer system for the sole purpose of gaining access to my personnel file.

Why? Just for my address?

Because Stoat had asked someone to kill me?

It just didn't make sense.

Why would he hire someone to kill me and then kill himself before it happened?

And _how_ would he hire someone?

Stoat didn't have money. We'd made sure of that after the last time.

Candi didn't have money. Or at least, none to speak of.

What kind of assassin worked pro bono?

A common thug maybe. Someone who already had a grudge against me for some other reason.

But what had Stoat done – found a way to research the case files of every criminal that I'd ever put away just so that he could find someone who hated me enough to kill me for free?

"We'll find him," Bobby said quietly.

We were in the car headed back to the office to meet up with John, but my mind was a million miles away.

I should've let him drive.

"I'm not worried," I lied reflexively.

"Alex," he chastised. "Don't start lying to me now."

"Okay, I am worried. Is that what you want to hear?" I snapped. "Every other goddamn day someone is trying to kill one of us. I'm sick of it. I'm starting to think that Carolyn had the right idea. Don't sit around and let the justice system handle it. Just blow the fuckers away because otherwise, they'll sit in jail and plot their revenge until eventually, one day, someone sneaks up behind me and sticks a knife in my back. Or yours. Or someone else we love."

Okay, so maybe I was more than a little worried. Maybe I was coming slightly undone.

I came to a stop at a red light, slamming the brakes harder than necessary, and then threw my head back against the seat.

"I mean, come on Bobby," I continued. "This is crazy. Rhonda obsessed over Mike so much that she wanted to kill Carolyn. Taggart hated Carolyn, so he wanted to kidnap her and make her his personal sex slave. Stoat hates you, so he tries to kill me. What the hell is wrong with everyone? And when, for the love of God, is it ever going to end?"

I finished my rant, and turned to find him staring at me with concerned eyes. I couldn't bear to have him look at me like that, so I focused on the stoplight and waited impatiently for it to turn green.

"Alex…"

"No. Don't Alex me. I'm just sick to death of the infinite supply of weasels who always seem to have our names on the tip of their tongues."

"What do you want to do?"

"What?"

His question had thrown me for a loop.

I was expecting him to assure me that he'd never let anything happen to me. I was ready to hear promises of protection and hyper vigilance and retribution.

What did I want to _do_? About what?

"About what?" I asked aloud when I didn't have the answer myself.

"I'm thinking that we can catch the red-eye to Rio," he said softly. "By this time tomorrow, we can be on the beach."

"Naked?" I asked because I couldn't help myself.

He was painting a lovely picture, and despite everything else that was going on, my mini-breakdown included, that's what I was thinking about.

I not only wanted to be anywhere but here, I wanted to be _there_.

"If you want," he answered. "Or not, if you don't."

"So you would just drop everything. This case, the Stoat thing, the business…everything and fly to Rio."

"Yes."

In my emotional state, his simple answer caused tears to fill my eyes.

How many years had I worked with him where the case was everything? Where finding the answer to the never-ending puzzle was _everything_?

But now, I was everything.

It was almost too much.

And yet, I'd known it for awhile.

And wasn't he everything to me? Wouldn't I _do_ anything for him? Wouldn't I change _my life_ for him?

In a second.

The horns behind me were blowing incessantly now considering that the light had been green for a solid minute, but I couldn't make myself push the accelerator.

Instead, I turned to look at him and ran my hand along his cheek.

"I'm sorry. I just…"

"Had a moment of frustration. I think it's safe to say that I've been there," he said with a smile. "I just don't want you to think that _this_ has to be our life. Our life can be…whatever you want."

"I know," I said, and then because I ran the risk of getting rear-ended by the annoyingly insistent vehicle behind me, I finally pulled through the intersection. "I just…is it wrong that I want the criminals to just be…criminals? I want to catch them and let them be put away and then be done with them. Why do they have to keep coming back?"

"Stoat was making a last ditch effort. He must have planned this whole thing out as soon as he learned that his first attempt had failed. He was in desperation mode. We _will_ catch whoever this is. You know that. Lupo and Bernard are both on it. And we'll be leaving for Denver, probably tomorrow, so that'll give them time to do what they need to do while we're out of the danger zone. Candi Ayers is not a criminal mastermind. She'll crack. She'll tell them what she knows and then this whole thing will be over."

By this time, I had arrived at the office, so I found a place to park and cut off the engine.

"I'm sorry," I said again. "Sometimes it's just so…"

"I know," he said, pulling me into his arms.

I rested my head against him, taking comfort in his embrace until I managed to pull myself together. Gone were the days of having to remain stoic and tough, and it was such a relief to be able to relax in his arms without the fear of…anything at all.

After a moment, I finally let him go.

"Okay," I said firmly. "I'm good."

"I _know_ you're good," he said with a grin. He kissed me, firmly and encouragingly, and then met my gaze again. "But are you _okay_?"

"Yeah," I said with a nod. "Let's get this over with. If he says what I think he's going to say, then we'll be flying out west tomorrow."

"Which means we have to call Mike tonight."

"Right," I agreed with a heavy sigh. "It's going to be a great night, isn't it?"

"One step at a time, honey. Are you ready to talk to John?"

"You mean am I ready to tell him that there's a possibility that the love of his life was a liar?"

"Yeah, that," he said.

"I guess so," I answered. I opened up the door and got out of the car. "But I have a feeling that I'm going to need some wine tonight. And maybe a bath."

"With a foot rub?" he asked as he met me around at the front of the car.

"You read my mind."

**

* * *

**

Strathmore POV

I waited outside of their office, pacing back and forth down the long hallway.

I couldn't seem to stand still. And it wasn't that I was impatient.

I mean, I _was_, but not with them. It was still a quarter before four, so it's not like they were late.

I was just ready to get it over with.

Both aspects.

I wanted to hear what they had learned about Heidi, and I wanted to see Alex again so that I could put to rest this unexpected obsession I'd developed.

Having a dream about someone tends to distort that person in your mind. It makes them seem surreal and it puts them on a pedestal.

I felt pretty confident that seeing Alex in person would put things back into perspective, so that I could stop thinking about her in such an inappropriate way.

So I'd been in Manhattan since two and in this hallway since three.

I heard the elevator ping, and I watched the doors expectantly as I'd done six times in the past forty-five minutes.

But this time, it was them.

The doors came open, and I was witness to a tender moment between the two of them.

She was leaning into him and he had his hands on her cheeks, his fingers intermixed into her hair, and he was whispering something to her.

I couldn't make out the words. I didn't need to.

But even though I instantly felt ashamed of myself for coveting my new friend's wife, images from my dream flashed through my head and I was mortified with myself for the rush of desire that went through me.

I quickly turned around and made another pass down the hallway as I ran through the latest stock report in my head.

Exxon, up two and a half...Bank of America, down a half…IBM, up one and a quarter…

Okay, that was better.

I was halfway to the other end of the hall when Alex called out.

"John?"

I turned around innocently as though I hadn't realized that they'd arrived.

"Oh, hey. I was early, so I was…"

"Getting in your exercise?" Bobby supplied. He quickly stepped up to me and shook my hand. "It's good to see you again," he said pleasantly.

It had only been two days, and yet he appeared to be genuinely glad to see me.

My guilt tripled as I shook his hand and returned his greeting.

"Sorry to make you wait," Alex said. "Come on in."

She unlocked the door and led the way into the offices. It was actually an apartment, Mike's former place of abode so I'd been told, but it seemed to suit much better as a business.

"Can I get you something?" Bobby asked me as he went into the kitchen.

"Bourbon," I answered quickly.

It was probably a bad move, and I'd most likely regret it later, but right now, I needed to loosen up. My blood pressure was going through the roof, and I was afraid that I was going to start spouting out confessions at any moment.

I needed to get a damn grip on myself.

"Sure," he called out. "I'll be right back. Alex, why don't we do this in my office?"

"Come on," she said, gesturing for me to follow her down the hall.

_Do _not_ look at her ass_, I warned myself. But she was wearing jeans that fit her perfectly, so it was impossible not to look. Impossible not to appreciate it.

Fortunately, I managed to drag my eyes away from her impressive backside just as she turned to me to allow me entrance into the office ahead of her.

"Have a seat. I'm going to grab a couple of things from my office, and I'll be right back."

I sat heavily in the chair.

What the hell was my problem? I rubbed my hands over my face and took a deep breath.

Heidi. I was here about Heidi.

"Are you okay?" Bobby asked me as he came in the room. He held out a glass for me, which I accepted and quickly drained of liquid.

"I've been better," I admitted.

He sat on the front edge of his desk and looked at me inquisitively.

"I've just been rehashing things from ten, twelve years ago in my mind. I'm wondering if maybe I should just let sleeping dogs lie," I answered, the words coming out of my mouth on their own accord.

And suddenly I realized that maybe that was the root of my problem.

Was I focusing on Alex because I didn't _want_ to focus on Heidi anymore?

Had my mind finally decided that enough was enough?

"You're afraid of what we've found."

I sighed deeply and looked at him as understanding rolled through me.

"I've been comparing women to her for a decade," I told him sadly. "What if I find that it's all been a waste? If I've wasted ten years of my life keeping people at a distance because no one would ever be as good as she was only to find that maybe she wasn't what I thought?"

Alex came into the room and sat next to Bobby on the front of his desk before intuitively jumping into the conversation.

"It's natural to elevate someone in your mind after they've passed," she said with the understanding of someone who had walked in my shoes.

_And she had_, I reminded myself.

Bobby had filled me in about Joe after the poker game. Alex had lost her husband around the same time that I'd lost Heidi.

But while I had wallowed in it, she had chosen to move on.

"But hiding from the truth doesn't help," she continued.

"The truth will set me free?" I joked lamely.

"Cheesy, but true," she replied with a shrug. "At the risk of overstepping my bounds, you've been holding on for too long. Maybe unraveling the mystery behind her death will help you to move on."

I nodded, wishing desperately that I had another drink.

"So, start from the beginning," Bobby encouraged.

I looked at the two of them as they sat together and another realization hit me.

It wasn't so much that I wanted _her. _

I wanted what they had together.

I didn't just covet Alex; I wanted to _be_ Bobby.

They were happy and open and loving, and I was…lonely.

Maybe she was right. Maybe once it all got out in the open, I could move on and find someone _like_ her, someone who could make me as happy as she made him.

"I met her on a beach in Wildwood."

TBC...


	11. Chapter 11

**Lupo POV**

* * *

Bernard wasn't kidding about the Gorens being as good as a get out of jail free card.

Because Ross had been ticked, and then suddenly he wasn't.

The only thing that had occurred between those two states of mind was me telling him that I'd run into the Gorens and so I'd given them a synopsis as to the latest state of affairs, which had ultimately caused me to be slightly late returning from lunch.

Bernard also wasn't wrong about the true cause of my tardiness.

And I was a little bit embarrassed about that because I never would've believed that I would be _that_ guy.

The kind of guy who couldn't seem to get through the day without spending a little quality time with his significant other.

But she'd called me, and said that she had some time while she was waiting for word from the grand jury, and I just couldn't say no.

Who am I kidding?

I didn't _want_ to say no.

I was just going to have to keep a better eye on the clock next time.

_Yeah, because that'll happen_.

How was I supposed to watch the clock when Connie does that…thing that she does?

She had a way of making me forget about everything. Hell, half of the time I forgot to _breathe_.

Maybe I'd have to set the alarm.

_Or maybe I shouldn't plan on midday quickies_, I chastised myself.

Maybe I should be a little bit more professional and actually only eat _lunch_ on my lunch hour.

_Nah, _I thought with a smile_. _The alarm would work.

So after giving Ross the rundown on the latest with the Gorens, he filled us in on his request for a follow-up on the tourist murders.

He told us to take care of that and then continue working on the Alex Goren hit request.

I didn't like the coldness of the label.

I'd just had dinner with the woman last night, and now to think of her as being a case, a potential victim, well…I didn't like that at all.

Ross looked _very_ uncomfortable about it, too.

And very adamant that we take care of our final task on the other case and then get to work on this Stoat thing.

So we headed out to Queens. We'd already made the arrest, but apparently the ADA, someone _other_ than Connie, wasn't completely satisfied with the statement that we'd obtained from a witness, so we went out to speak with the man again.

After we handled that, we headed for the home of Candi Ayers.

On the way there, I got a call from CSU.

"I didn't get anything from those prints you dropped off," he told me.

"Nothing at all?"

"I got your expected results," he stated. "And I've got one partial left that's unidentified. You said there's one more person's prints needed for exclusionary purposes?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"Get it. If you're lucky, maybe the one I've got won't match up, and then you might be looking at your perp."

"But so the perp isn't in the system," I confirmed.

"How many different ways you want me to say it, Lupo?" he asked smartly.

Asshole.

"I got it," I replied. "Hang onto the partial. I'll bring you another one for comparison either later today or tomorrow."

"Sure thing."

I hung up with CSU and brought Bernard up to speed.

"So it's no one that Stoat was rooming with in prison. No recent parolee."

"Unless the perp wore gloves and none of the prints is our guy."

"The old man didn't mention gloves," Bernard reminded me.

"No, he didn't," I replied thoughtfully. And Rensini had been thorough in his description, plus he'd taken a picture.

"So square one there," Bernard stated.

"Then we need to get Candi in a conversational mood."

"You think she'll be home?" Bernard asked me as he parked in front of a rundown apartment building.

"I don't know. It's four. What time do strippers usually clock in?"

"You're asking me?"

"Well don't ask me," I replied.

We got out of the car and walked up to the entrance. The front door had a buzzer, but apparently the lock was broken because the door was ajar.

"No way this girl has got the bucks to pay for a hit," Bernard mumbled as we walked through the lobby.

"Maybe Stoat had money hidden somewhere that was never found," I suggested.

"Or maybe someone else is working with him."

The elevator was broken, so we climbed up three flights of stairs and then went down the hall to Candi's apartment.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and she's already gone to work."

"How is that lucky?" I asked.

"Then we can go to the strip club," he said as though I was crazy for having to ask.

"Oh, yeah. That's how I want to spend my Tuesday night," I replied as I banged on the door.

"What happened to you, Lupes? You used to be fun," Bernard teased me as we waited for her to open.

I thought I could hear rustling, so I had my hopes up that she was actually home, but I had to knock again when after another minute she still hadn't answered.

"I'm still fun," I retorted. "Just because I have no interest in going to a…"

The door whipped open unexpectedly and there stood Candi with a shotgun in her hands.

This was the _second_ fucking time I'd had a gun pulled on me today.

"Hey, settle down," Bernard said quickly. "NYPD."

My heart was pounding as I realized that she could've killed us both while we were joking around.

_There's no such thing as a routine stop_.

Not only a mantra for cruisers, but for detectives as well.

Never underestimate a situation.

"Show me your badges," she replied, not lowering the gun.

Her hands were shaking and she looked like hell. Mascara smudges covered her cheeks and her hair was a matted mess.

She wore what appeared to be a remnant from last night's show – some sort of school girl outfit, but nothing that would have ever been allowed in any school I'd ever attended.

"I'm going to reach in my pocket and get it out," I told her carefully.

"Do it slowly," she ordered.

_No shit_, I thought.

I got out my badge and held it up for her inspection.

"Now you," she insisted. Bernard got his out, and she finally lowered the shotgun.

When she did, I bull-rushed her, wrestling the shotgun from her hands and then taking her down to the floor.

"Hey, what the hell?" she shouted as I jerked her arms behind her back and applied the handcuffs.

"You just pointed a shotgun at two NYPD detectives, sugar. What did you think was going to happen?" Bernard asked her.

I pulled the girl to her feet and then sat her down in a kitchen chair.

"Talk. Fast," I instructed. "If we like what you have to say, we might let you go."

"Talk about what?"

"Why'd you have the gun out? Who are you afraid of?"

"You see where I live," she scoffed. "You never know who's gonna come knocking on the door."

"Try again," Bernard said. "And the name _Stoat_ had better be somewhere in your explanation."

At the mention of Stoat, the girl burst into tears.

"He's dead," she wailed. "What does he have to do with this?"

"You tell us. You took him a cell phone last week."

"He asked me to."

"What else did you do for him?"

"You mean…" she began, looking at me in confusion. "Like sex?"

"No," I said in annoyance. "I mean like _contraband_. Did you take him a different phone before this last one? Did you take anything out of prison when you visited? Did he ask you to mail a letter or make a call?"

"I couldn't even see him anymore. I met with Johnny, and passed stuff through him."

"What kind of stuff?" Bernard shouted. We were both losing our patience with her.

"And Johnny who?" I asked. "Testarossa?"

"Yeah," she said with a nod. "I took him a cell phone two weeks ago. Then last week, I traded it for another one. But that's it. I didn't mail no fucking letters and I didn't make no fucking calls. Now can you let me go?"

"Where's the phone that he gave you?"

"I threw it out."

"Where?"

"The fucking Hudson, where do you think?"

"Keep on being a smart ass, Candi," Bernard told her. "You're going to find yourself in lock-up for the night. You want to miss out on having all those dollar bills jammed into your g-string?"

"I don't have the phone, okay? I swear. I tossed it in the river."

"Give us the number."

"Of that phone?" she asked dumbly.

I was starting to get a headache. Maybe _this _was why I'd started law school.

"Of that phone," I repeated firmly. She rolled her eyes at me, but then complied.

"_Now_ can you let me go?"

"Now you can tell us why you pulled out that shotgun," I answered. She looked back and forth between me and Bernard, and I guess she decided that we weren't budging until she came clean.

"I…I just…I was scared, okay? I thought that maybe…maybe whoever whacked Mike was gonna come after me."

I exchanged a look with Bernard, and then turned back to her.

"Who do you think whacked him?" I asked.

"I don't know," she admitted. "But he wouldn't kill himself. Not now."

"Why would you think they'd come after you?"

"I don't know," she said again, this time more slowly.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to call bullshit on that one, Candi," I told her with a shake of my head. "What were you and Stoat involved with?"

"In case you hadn't noticed, Mike's been in prison," she retorted. "How could he have been involved with anything?"

"Because he had you running his errands for him," I stated.

"And you were using Testarossa as the go-between," Bernard added. "What was he getting out of the deal?"

"Nothing," she said quickly. At our continued stares, she said, "Okay, so maybe I was giving him a little, you know…"

"Stress relief?" I supplied. She shrugged and gave us a nod.

"That's it?" Bernard asked her. "He didn't want his own contraband? He ran the risk of getting busted for swapping out illegal cell phones for _that_? Are you really that good?"

"I can show you," she suggested as she sat back in the chair and crossed her legs slowly.

"That's okay, sugar. I'm not sure if I'm up to date on my shots," Bernard replied.

"Hey, mother fucker," she yelled indignantly. "I'm not like that. Don't be hatin' on me just 'cause I'm a stripper."

"No, I'm _hatin'_ on you because you were pimping yourself out," he clarified. I hid my smirk and tried to regain the focus of the interrogation.

"Okay, Candi. So you would meet with Testarossa, spend a few minutes discussing the big bang theory, and then you gave him a phone. A week later, same thing except he gives one back to you."

"That's right."

"So why would you think that someone wanted to kill you?" I asked carefully. "Stoat might get killed over a cell phone in prison, but who would come after you?"

"I think I want a lawyer now."

"You're not actually under arrest," I countered. "Yet."

"Then arrest me or let me go."

"Be careful what you wish for, sugar," Bernard said as he brought her to her feet. "Candi Ayers, you are under arrest for smuggling contraband into a state prison."

I held back as Bernard went over her rights and guided her out into the hallway.

I looked around the kitchen, hoping to see something incriminating.

What had she said? He wouldn't kill himself. _Not now_.

That was the same thing that I'd said. Why hire a hit and then commit suicide before it was completed?

So did that mean that Candi knew about the hit?

Or was it something else, considering that she thought that her life was in danger?

Because she hadn't been expecting cops when she'd opened up that door. She was expecting someone else.

_But why_?

I did a visual sweep of everything in plain view, and just as I was ready to call it quits, I caught sight of a gym bag underneath the coffee table.

I walked over to it and squatted down, without touching anything.

The zipper was open.

And now I was even more confused than before.

Because the bag was filled with cash.

TBC...


	12. Chapter 12

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I felt bad for John as he outlined his seemingly storybook life with Heidi.

They'd met on the beach.

She hadn't known who he was, but rather seemed interested in him for _him_. That had helped to break down his walls and had allowed him to open up to her.

They'd spent the day together, and then he'd called her the next weekend and invited her to AC.

Two weeks later, she'd moved into his hotel. A month after that, he'd asked her to marry him.

It was fast, he'd admitted to us. But he'd known almost from the beginning.

I could understand that.

I'd known that Alex was special from day one. I won't say that it was love at first sight, but I had known that she was different.

She was challenging and smart and interesting.

And maybe if I hadn't been so dead set against falling in love with my partner then it would've been love at first sight.

Instead it took me a few years to admit it to myself.

And several more years to admit it to her.

So I was a little bit impressed with John's boldness. His courage to make a commitment.

They'd never actually gotten married, but that had been because of her, he'd said.

That was a curious bit of information, too. If she was after his money, then why procrastinate on making things legal?

"So the first day that you met, she didn't know who you were," Alex clarified.

"No."

"How long before you told her? I mean, before she really understood _who_ you are."

"Um…by the end of the weekend when she came to visit. At first, I just acted like I was staying in the hotel instead of living there."

"But by then you trusted her enough to tell her?"

"One of the employees said something to me in front of her. I can't remember what exactly, but it pretty much let the cat out of the bag."

"How did she act?" I asked him.

"You think she knew, don't you?" he responded. "You think that she targeted me, planned the meeting on the beach?"

"We don't know," Alex answered. "We're just trying to sort it out."

"She seemed surprised," he answered with a shrug. "I blew it off, and she let it go."

"What about her job?" I asked. "She was working for Caduceus then."

"Right. She'd just been promoted to sales rep. She talked about it that day on the beach. She was treating herself to a day off before the real world started, is what she'd said. She was going to be traveling a lot and would have a lot more responsibilities and she didn't anticipate having much time for vacations."

"You didn't talk about your work?"

"Women like a man who knows how to listen," he replied. "Any guy can talk about himself for hours. But it's listening and _hearing_ that makes a difference."

"So you listened," Alex said.

"Yes."

"Who suggested the follow-up date?"

"I did. I wanted to see her again. And before that, I had been pretty much a one-night stand kind of guy," he admitted. "But I _really_ wanted to see her again."

I watched his face as he slipped into a memory and I felt bad for having to lead him there, but it had been his decision to open this can of worms.

"I hate to ask," I began. "But did you have her checked out?"

"I was smitten, but I'm not stupid," he said. "I knew a guy at Caduceus. I called him and got the rundown. Everything that she'd said added up."

I glanced at Alex, and she nodded slightly. So that made sense. She'd lied to Caduceus and that was who he'd used as his resource.

Now it was time to pull the punches.

"John, Heidi didn't graduate from UVA," Alex said gently. "She never attended any college."

"What? No, that's wrong. She had a degree in business. After she moved in with me, she helped me with some key financial decisions."

"We're not saying that she wasn't smart. Or self-taught. But she didn't go to school past high school."

"Okay," he said. "Well, that's not that big of a deal, right? She probably lied to get the job, and then couldn't take it back. She was good at her job. She made her way up through that company on her own merit, not because of some imaginary piece of paper."

"I agree," I said.

"What else?"

"She was in a lot of debt when she was killed," Alex told him.

"I paid off her credit card," he said. "It was only a few hundred dollars."

"She had others. She kept a PO Box."

John got up from his chair and took a stroll around the room. He looked so much like Mike that it was messing with my mind a little bit.

"Okay, so what?" he asked, coming to a stop in front of us. "She had a post office box. And more credit cards. What does that prove except that she _wasn't _after my money? Otherwise she would've wanted me to pay them off, right?"

"That's true," I agreed, because it _was_ a possibility.

And if they'd been newly together I would be more likely to believe it, but they'd been together for a couple of years.

Keeping a separate, secret mailing address after that amount of time was not normal.

"This is all you've got?" he asked. "A college degree that wasn't real and some credit card debt?"

"It doesn't sound like much, and it may not mean anything," Alex began, but then he cut her off.

"You're damn right it doesn't mean anything! What the hell do you think it means? She was in a gang in Denver because she had credit card debt? I thought you guys were supposed to be the best!"

I got up from the desk at his last remark and took a step closer to him.

I understood his frustration, and I could appreciate that he was upset to learn that Heidi may have been lying to him, but I wasn't going to stand around and let him hurl insults at us.

"We're not reaching any conclusions at the moment. We're talking about the facts," I said firmly. "Now sit down, and let's finish talking about this rationally."

"No, maybe this wasn't such a good idea."

"John," Alex said, getting up to stand next to me. I could tell that she was holding on to her control by a thin thread. Mike's connection to him was about the only thing keeping each of our tempers in check. "We know this is hard to hear. But you need to let us finish."

"There's more?"

"We've looked at the autopsy. There is some missing data, but even with what we have seen, it doesn't look like it was a mugging. In fact, we're not sure why the Denver PD would've ever listed it as such."

"Then what was it?" he asked.

"We're going to go out there and find out," Alex told him. "That is, if you want us to finish pursuing this."

"Shit," he swore quietly. "Let me think. I need to think, okay? Can I get another drink?"

"Come on," I told him. "Let's go into the kitchen, and give you a minute to clear your head."

So John followed me into the kitchen where I refilled his glass. I poured myself one as well.

"How would you feel," he said suddenly. "If everything you knew about Alex was a lie? How would you handle that?"

"I'd be mad," I admitted. "And hurt. Mostly hurt, I think. But I don't know if I'd be lashing out at the people who are trying to help me. As a businessman, I'm holding my tongue. As a husband, I'm going to warn you. If you say another harsh or derogatory word to Alex, then we're done."

He stared at me for a minute, and I gave him the time to let him realize his mistake.

"You're right," he said at last. "That was uncalled for. You're doing what I hired you to do."

"And we're your friends," I reminded him firmly.

"I know. I'm...sorry. I'll tell Alex, too. I'm sorry for how I've acted. But please tell me that you understand."

"I do," I assured him. "And that's about the only reason why you still have all of your teeth right now."

He looked up quickly at my remark, and so I added, "Otherwise I would've let Alex have a go at you."

He chuckled lightly and nodded his head in understanding.

"Point taken," he said.

"So which is it? Mad or hurt?" I asked him.

"I'm both," he said, shaking his head. "And now I'm suspicious, too. Do you know how many women come after me because they want my bank account? I honestly thought that Heidi was different. I've spent the past decade so _sure _that she was different. But you don't think that she was, do you? You two think that she planned to meet me on the beach that day."

"I'm not saying that at all," I told him. "There's no way to know that. We've been trying to contact some of her old friends from back then, but we haven't had any luck so far. Did she have girl friends when she was with you?"

"She might have mentioned a few names. I don't know. She moved from Pomona to Atlantic City, so I didn't think much about the fact that she didn't try to stay connected with anyone. I think there were a couple of women at work. And she was friendly with Jessica somewhat."

"Your receptionist?"

"Yeah. She was new back then, and not nearly as good as she is now. Heidi was nice to her, gave her some pointers."

"Okay. We'll talk to her."

I refilled his glass again, and watched as he visibly relaxed.

"Again, I'm really sorry that I snapped at you guys. You know...you have to know that it's not you. I'm not upset with _you_," he said, and then he stopped and ran his hand over his face. "So you're going to Denver?"

"Do you _want_ us to go to Denver?"

"Yeah," he said with a wave of his hand. "Go. Get to the bottom of this so that I can move on."

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

"You think he's going to be okay?" I asked after John finally left the office.

We'd walked through everything with him a second time, jotting down notes and key facts.

During that time, he'd managed to down half a bottle of Jack.

I was definitely worried about him.

"He seemed so…broken," I added.

"He just needs a little time," Bobby said.

"You were good with him," I told him as I grabbed up the notes. "You've had quite the day, huh? First I have a breakdown, then John…and you bore the brunt of both of them."

"Are you going to make it up to me?" he asked me.

"I thought you were going to rub my feet while I took a bath?"

His answering grin had me picking up the pace. I was ready to get out of here and go home.

But a call from Lupo ruined that little fantasy.

"Candi's in custody," he said when Bobby answered and put him on speaker.

"For what?"

"She admitted to bringing in the cell phones. She took him one a couple of weeks ago, and then traded it out for the one that was found in his mattress."

"How'd she get it to him?"

"Testarossa."

Bobby rolled his eyes at me and shook his head.

"What was his cut in the deal?"

"According to her, she gave him oral sex and he gave her a phone. Sounds like a fair trade to me."

"What did she do with it?" I asked while Bobby chuckled at Lupo's nonchalance.

"It's in the Hudson. But I got the digits so we're pulling the logs."

"Okay, let us know what you find," Bobby said.

"There's more."

"Of course there is," I muttered. "What?"

"She pulled a shotgun on us when we knocked on her door. She's in fear for her life."

"From whom?"

"No idea. She also had a big bag of money under her coffee table. Ten large."

"So…what?" I asked in frustration. "You think she was holding the payment for the hit man?"

"Honestly? I don't know. There was nothing about you in her apartment. Not on her computer or anywhere. And there's no way that she's smart enough to hack the NYPD computers."

"No, but if she's trading sexual favors for phones, I'm sure she'd trade for information, too," I suggested.

"Well, I've got the tech guys going through her laptop. I've got more guys trying to back track the hack. I'm going to talk to Testarossa tomorrow, and then take another run at Candi, but she lawyered up when we pushed her on what she was afraid of."

"Okay," I said on a sigh. "Where does that leave us?"

"I need Strathmore's prints as soon as you can get them. They're down to one partial, so once we see his print, we can rule him out and then we'll either have something or nothing."

"John just left," Bobby said. "But he had a drink. I'll let him know that we're going to give you the glass for printing."

"Good. Otherwise, the partial didn't pop. No one with a record touched your door."

"But with Candi in possession of money, the hit could definitely be pending," I stated.

"Yep. I'll get the records on the cell number that Candi tossed in the river…"

"Assuming that she didn't give you a bogus number," Bobby said.

"Right. Fifty-fifty on that," Lupo agreed. "And depending on the calls made, I'm not sure how much it'll help us. I doubt he called a hit man directly."

"Has Testarossa's cell been tossed?" I asked.

"Not yet, but Ross is working on that one."

"Let us know," Bobby said.

"Of course," he answered. "But in the mean time, I'm hoping that I can talk you two into checking into a hotel. Just for a few days until me and Bernard have a chance to sort this whole thing out."

"We'll get one for tonight," Bobby said after glancing me for confirmation.

Hell, we were probably going to have to move again after this anyway.

Maybe we should just start living in hotels. We wouldn't have to buy furniture and we could pack up and move anytime some jerk off decided to interrupt our lives.

"Just tonight?"

"We're going out of town tomorrow," I explained.

"Oh, so the preliminary stage is over?"

"Uh huh," I said. "Now it's a full blown case."

TBC...


	13. Chapter 13

**Logan POV**

* * *

I couldn't remember a time when I'd been this relaxed.

Never.

I was one lucky bastard.

We'd arrived in Rio last night after the longest flight of my life, but it had been worth every minute.

We'd checked into our hotel, gotten a good night's sleep, and then this morning, we got ready to head to the beach.

I wasn't sure of the etiquette of this kind of thing.

And I have to admit that I was a little bit anxious.

There were going to be men there looking at my naked wife.

_She_ was going to be looking at _them_.

And why was I worried about that more than I was interested in the women that _I'd_ be seeing?

Because I had finally reached a point in my life where I was no longer looking for the next good thing.

I _had_ the best thing going.

Was that what bothered me? To think that _she_ was looking for the next good thing?

"You're over thinking this," Carolyn said quietly as she put some items into a bag.

Cell phones. Sun block. Towels.

"You know, it's not a peep show," she continued. "It's not about seeing what you can see. It's about being relaxed and communing with nature. Most Americans are too uptight about clothing and modesty. There's nothing wrong with the human body."

"There is absolutely nothing wrong with your body," I said as I grabbed her from behind.

I kissed along her neck, and enjoyed the way she shifted to encourage it.

"That's just it," she said. "It doesn't matter what I look like. People should be comfortable in their own skin."

"I'm comfortable in my skin," I insisted, although I wasn't entirely sure that I was.

"You're worried about me looking at other men, aren't you? What do you think, that I'm going to be comparison shopping?" she said with a barely contained grin.

"I…I'm…I don't know what I think," I admitted. "But it _is_ going to feel weird standing there in public, taking off my clothes."

"You can do it at your own pace," she told me with a shrug. "Or you don't have to do it at all. There aren't any rules. Well, except that you shouldn't take pictures. Or stare too long."

"What about you?" I asked as I pulled her tighter up against me. "Can I stare at you?"

"You can stare at me for as long as you'd like," she replied as she turned in my arms to kiss me.

And so I did.

Stare at her, that is.

We got down to the beach, and I'm not exactly sure what I'd been expecting, but it was just…normal. People were lying on towels or playing in the waves or tossing about Frisbees.

They just happened to be unclothed while they did so.

And Carolyn, my free spirit, was quick to disrobe and settle onto a beach towel.

She let out a contented sigh and closed her eyes, having not looked around at all.

Maybe I _had_ missed the point of this place.

It wasn't about _seeing_. It was about _being._

"Should I put some sun block on you?" I asked her.

"That would be nice."

I was very careful to make sure that I didn't miss a spot. Maybe too careful because by the time I finished, I was fully aroused.

"I'm sorry," I told her. "I'm going to have to wait a few minutes before I lose the trunks. I'm sure that my current condition would be…uncool."

She opened her eyes and smiled at me, reaching up to run her hand through my hair.

"Relax, Mike," she whispered before closing her eyes again.

And so I did.

I stretched out on the towel next to her and for the next several minutes, I just concentrated on breathing.

Once I felt the tension leaving my muscles, and the blood leaving one muscle in particular, I eased down my swimming trunks.

It felt strangely liberating to finally kick them away.

I glanced around briefly, but no one was paying any attention to me, so I settled back onto the towel and let out a deep breath.

"Feel better?"

"Yeah," I admitted. And then I added, "No."

"What's wrong?"

"I'm going to need some sun block."

But despite the resurgence of…things…when Carolyn applied sun block, I simply turned onto my stomach for a little while.

And once the initial taboo feeling wore off, it actually felt great.

We talked about things that had been on each of our minds.

And she'd been right. The environment was conducive to openness.

I talked for awhile about my mom. Things that I hadn't told her before. Things that I had never told anyone.

Because not every single memory of my mom was a bad one. Every once in a great while, she'd done something worth remembering.

"So I have her to thank for your excellent pancake-making ability," she said after I'd shared the story of getting a cooking lesson at age five.

And true, my mom had taught me so that I could then start making my own breakfast, but still…that hour in the kitchen, just me and her…it had actually been fun.

And maybe I needed to start looking for the good that was buried beneath all of the shit.

"Yeah, I guess so," I agreed. "I probably made them three or four times a week."

"I'm surprised that you don't hate them now."

"Me, too," I replied. Her astuteness never ceased to amaze me. "I actually did for awhile. But after she died, I found myself ordering them one day in a diner. The next thing I knew, I was buying the supplies to fix them at home."

"For all of your conquests?" she asked in a teasing voice.

But then it seemed as though both of our minds went to the same topic.

Rhonda.

I hadn't made her pancakes. I'd been too damn hung over.

But Carolyn wouldn't know that.

"I never made her any," I said.

"I wasn't going to ask."

"You want to talk about it?" I offered.

She hadn't spoken about the incident in the cemetery.

I knew that she and Lupo had both shot Rhonda. And I knew that she'd been cleared.

Other than that, I didn't know much.

"I don't feel bad about it, if that's what you want to know."

"No. I can't imagine why you would."

"Because I killed her," she answered.

She rolled over onto her side so that she could face me, so I did the same. I'd damn near forgotten that we were completely naked lying on a crowded beach.

And it floored me that I had somehow blocked that out and managed to stay focused only on our conversation.

"You killed a murderer who would've likely tried to kill you," I corrected. And then I added, "Someone who _did_ try to have you killed."

"Lupo didn't shoot."

Her words hung there between us for a moment as I thought about what she was telling me.

"You said that he did."

"I mean, he _did_. But only after I did."

"So he had a slow reaction," I reasoned.

I reached for her hand and held it in mine. I didn't want her to think for one second that whatever she had to tell me was going to diminish her in my eyes.

To me, she was everything.

"I think he was covering my ass."

Huh. I guess that I'm going to have to buy Lupo a box of the most expensive cigars that I could find while I was down here.

"Okay."

"Seriously, Mike. I shot her. He waited. Then he shot her. He told Ross that we fired together."

"He was making sure that there wasn't an inquiry."

"To cover my ass."

"Did she have the gun in her hand?"

"Yes. He told her to drop it, but she didn't. A couple of times, I think."

"So it was justifiable."

"That's a nice word that we can put on it to make ourselves feel better, but Mike…I shot her. _In the head_. Was it because I feared for my life? Or was it because I was so pissed at her for everything that she'd put you through? Or was it because I was terrified that you were bleeding out back at Steve-O's while I was playing hide and seek with her in the damn cemetery? I can't say for sure."

I honestly did not care. But she did.

I brought her hand up to my lips and kissed it.

"Do you think Lupo is a good cop?" I asked her casually.

"Do I…what? Yeah. Yeah, he's a good cop. He watched your back. He turned himself into a sitting duck so that he could talk Rhonda into leaving the bar without shooting again. So, yeah."

"Well, there you go."

"Mike, I'm not following."

"Sweetheart, he barely knew you back then. Why would a good cop put his career on the line for a civilian who'd made a mistake?"

"I don't…I…he wouldn't."

"Right. He did what he did because it _wasn't _a mistake. Maybe he was slow to react. Maybe it was a judgment call. But either way, he agreed with your decision. The only thing that he did was make the process easier on you."

Of course, I was still buying him the damn cigars.

"So you think…"

"I think that you did what you had to do."

"I just…I wanted to be completely truthful with you," she said.

She met my gaze with those open, honest, dark brown eyes, and I fell in love with her all over again.

I let go of her hand and instead ran my fingers softly over her hair.

"I appreciate that," I told her in a husky voice. "But please don't feel guilty about what you did."

"I only felt guilty about _not _feeling guilty," she admitted. "I thought that maybe…I don't know. I thought that made me a terrible person. I even thought about going to confession."

"You did?" I asked, unable to contain my surprise.

"I thought about it. I didn't go. But I might. I don't know, maybe it'll make me feel better. Although…you make me feel better."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she said with a slow smile.

I needed to look away from her or I was going to have to roll back onto my stomach. She was just so sweet. I still couldn't fathom how I'd managed to have someone like her fall in love with someone like me.

"I love you," she told me, clearly reading my mind.

"Sweetheart, those words are all I ever need to hear."

We stayed on the beach for most of the day and then went back to clean up for dinner.

By the time we got back to the hotel after dinner, I was feeling closer to her than ever before.

"Coming here was such a good idea," I told her as I pinned her against our hotel room door.

The _outside_ of the door.

But the hallway was empty and I was feeling my oats.

I picked her up, bringing her legs around my waist and then I proceeded to kiss her with everything that I had.

She returned it just as fervently as she ran her hands along my back, shifting relentlessly against me.

"Let's go inside," she whispered when I broke away from her lips to instead capture her earlobe between my teeth.

"I don't want to," I murmured. "I want to take you right here."

What can I say? We were in Rio. We'd spent the better part of the day without any clothes on, and yet we hadn't had sex. I was ready to explode.

"Then do it," she challenged, and I nearly faltered in surprise at her willingness to go along with my suggestion.

But I recovered nicely.

And her sundress was no match for my enthusiasm.

I reached my hands underneath it, shoving it out of the way as I continued to work my teeth and tongue along her neck.

My hands were met with soft, silky skin as I stroked along her backside. I made a mental note to check out what kind of underwear she had on so that I could be sure to buy her some more just like it because it wasn't covering much of her at all.

It was perfect.

With escalating intensity, I pushed hard against her, increasing the pressure while I kept up a steady assault with my lips against her throat.

She threw her head back in pleasure, thumping the back of her head against the door, but it didn't seem to faze her a bit.

Instead, she worked blindly to pull down my zipper and managed to free me from my slacks in record time.

The feeling of her hand against my bare skin just about did me in, and I had to focus hard on something other than what we were doing.

_Tony Romo…347 out of 550 for 4,483 yards and twenty-six touchdowns…_

But then she squeezed me with just the right amount of pressure, and the stats fled my brain as my hips sought out hers instinctively.

I _needed_ her. Desperately. Right fucking now.

I reached between us and shoved aside the last bit of fabric barrier and then pushed into her with undeniable urgency.

And I didn't hesitate with that first thrust.

She felt too good.

I kept going and going, harder and harder, each stroke creating more friction and more pleasure than the last.

I had thought that it would be over quickly.

I'd thought that the feel of her and the wickedness of our location would combine to make me a clichéd two-minute man.

But instead, I lost track of time altogether as the sound of her moans echoing throughout the empty hall mingled with the steady pounding of our bodies against the door.

It went on and on until at last she called out my name several times in a raspy, sexy voice that served to drag me right over the edge with her.

"Oh my God," she whispered after we stood panting for several long moments.

Or rather, _I_ stood. She was still wedged against the door with her legs around my waist.

"Mike, that was…wow," she said.

"Uh huh," I agreed, every bit as ineloquent as she. I held her gaze and gave her a smile before I leaned down to kiss her lightly.

"We're still in the hallway," I reminded her softly. "If we get arrested, you're calling Goren for bail money."

But we didn't. Get arrested, that is.

After another minute, I managed to zip up my pants and get my key out of my pocket without setting her down.

I carried us into the room and locked the door behind us before taking us both to the bed.

"How long before we can do that again?" she asked me as she reached to unzip my pants again.

"Longer than a few minutes," I said on a laugh. But I let her push me back onto the bed and take off my pants. And everything else.

"Doesn't being at the beach today make you just want to walk around like this all of the time?" she asked me as she stretched out next to me on the bed.

She ran her fingernails over my chest in a slow, leisurely pattern.

"You've done that before," I said, and I wasn't sure why I was so slow to pick up on that fact.

"I've been to one a time or two," she admitted.

"When you were in Columbia?"

"No," she said on a laugh. "No, when I was _a lot_ younger."

"Why?" I teased. "Were you worried about how your body looks?"

"I was for awhile," she confessed.

"Not anymore?" I asked quietly, sensing that she was on to a serious thought.

"I think you changed that for me," she said. "You always treat me as though I'm the most beautiful woman that you've ever seen."

"That's because you are," I whispered. I turned and pressed a kiss against her forehead.

"That's what I mean. You're so sincere about it. It's not just a line."

"I don't use lines anymore," I promised. "I don't need to."

We were quiet for a few minutes, immersed in total silence except for the humming of the overhead fan and the gentle scraping of her nails along my skin.

And then came the ringing of the cell phone.

"Oh no," she mumbled. "This can't be good."

I rolled off of the bed and went through her bag to find our phones. It was mine.

"It's Bobby," I said, my jello-like muscles suddenly tense yet again.

Because he wouldn't be calling if it weren't _some_thing.

TBC...


	14. Chapter 14

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I hung up with Lupo feeling out of sorts.

I had honestly expected this threat on Alex's life to be over. I thought that Candi would confess to helping Stoat, and then she'd say that they never finished making contact with anyone, and then we could just go home and quit worrying about men in black showing up on our doorstep.

But that didn't happen.

Candi had ten grand sitting in her dump of an apartment, potentially for the purpose of paying off the man who could successfully take Alex out.

The pain in my heart at that thought was overwhelming.

There was just too damn much going on right now.

Alex was right.

What was wrong with all of these criminals? Why couldn't we just be left alone to do our jobs?

I sat in silence for a moment after disconnecting the call, and then I got up and headed for the kitchen.

Alex followed.

"Are you going to talk about it?" she asked me as I used my handkerchief to put John's glass into a Ziploc bag so that we could deliver it to Lupo in the morning.

"Talk about what?" I asked, my aggravation and feeling of impotence causing me to speak sharper than I'd intended. "About how we're crushing John with every new fact and yet we still expect him to be nice to us? Or about how there's a hit man out there with your picture in his wallet? How we're going to run to Denver with our tails between our legs while two guys whom we _barely know_ are going to be here trying to find out who wants to kill you? Which part is it that you want me to talk about?"

"All of it," she answered. "Do you want to do it now, or after we get a hotel room?"

"How can you be so calm?"

"I guess it's my turn," she retorted. "Have you forgotten that I bit your head off in the car a couple of hours ago? This is what we get with high stress jobs. It's nothing new."

"I never used to yell at you like this," I said in frustration. I hated that I was taking it out on her. I was no better than John.

"No, you didn't," she agreed smartly. "You used to walk away from me. I'll take yelling over walking away any day."

"Alex…"

"Okay, fine. We'll do it here. We are _not _running away. We are solving a case," she stated.

She stepped up closer to me, putting a hand on my chest and causing me to take a step backwards.

"And tracking down whoever might be after me is _not_ currently our job. It's Lupo and Bernard's. They were good enough when we needed help with Rhonda, and now suddenly they're not, just because it's me?"

"I didn't say that," I argued. "I…"

"You want to do it yourself. I get that. But if you want to do it, then we need to tell John that we can't help him right now. We can't do both. So it's business or personal. Which one?"

Boy was she ever pissed. Not at me. I didn't think. But like me, she was ticked off at our situation.

"What if I don't want to pick?" I asked childishly. "I want to help John. Really, I do. I like him, even if he does have a thing for you."

"What?" she asked, incredulous about either my change of topic or the words themselves.

"I can understand it," I continued, ignoring her confusion. "I mean, can I blame him for having a thing for you? It's not like he's acted on it."

At her extended silence, I felt new anger bubble up inside of me.

What if he _had _done something? Would she have told me about it?

"Has he?" I asked, raising my voice again. "Has he acted on it?"

"What?" she asked again. "No!"

"Would you tell me if he had?"

"Bobby," she said crossly. "He doesn't have a thing for me."

"He does," I insisted. "I'm asking if he's done anything about it."

"No!"

"Then fine," I said.

I was conversely pleased that she was just as worked up as I was. I didn't want her to stand around being calm. I wanted her to be outraged, just like me.

"Fine? You think John has a crush on me and you're fine with it."

"I don't _think_ it. I know it."

"Bobby," she said again, this time in annoyance.

"Yeah. It's fine," I explained. "Because he's going through a huge upheaval in his life right now. You're stable and smart and sympathetic and well, I get it. So I still want to help him. But you come first with me. I need to…"

"Bobby, I swear to God, if you say you need to _protect_ me…" she interrupted sharply, shaking her head and continuing to advance on me.

"_Find out who's behind this_," I finished pointedly. "I don't know if I can leave this city while someone is gunning for you. It's the coward's way out."

"It's _work_," she said. "What do you want to do? Do you want me to go to Colorado while you stay here and help track down Stoat's hired gun?"

"No. We're not separating," I insisted, surprised that she would even suggest it. What if the hit man followed her to Denver?

"Then what? Do you want to tell John that his case has to wait? And run the risk of the file being stamped closed?"

"No."

"Then what?" she shouted again.

By now, she had me trapped against the kitchen counters. Her hands were held out to her sides, her face was flushed, and she was breathing heavily.

She was fucking gorgeous and I couldn't help myself.

I pulled her roughly to me and kissed her.

I wasn't sure what I expected.

I guess that if she was truly angry with me she would've broken off the kiss, stepped back, and then flayed me with a verbal onslaught.

But she didn't.

Instead, she wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me back, so I turned and lifted her onto the counter, knocking the bottle of Jack into the sink in the process.

The glass shattered, but we didn't slow down.

It was a maelstrom of teeth and lips and tongues and hands as we each battled for dominance.

She tugged at my clothes and I ripped at hers until we were both stripped bare and then at last, I was fully buried into her depths.

But even then, we didn't slow down, because it still wasn't enough

She dug her fingernails into my back, and then dragged them down to my butt, encouraging me to move faster.

And I did.

But I needed the control.

So I reached back and captured her hands and then pinned them over her head, against the cabinet. I used one hand to hold her wrists in place and moved my other hand down her back to help keep her anchored in place on the counter.

Then I kissed her hard, doing my best to convey to her every frustration that I was feeling.

I couldn't put her fate in someone else's hands.

I couldn't turn my back on this threat while we explored another mystery.

I couldn't let anything happen to her.

I couldn't let her down.

I finally tore my mouth from hers and buried my head in the crook of her neck as I pushed us both past the breaking point.

When we finished, neither of us spoke, but I let go of her wrists, suddenly afraid that maybe I'd been hurting her. She immediately moved her fingers into my hair, keeping my head cradled against her.

"See? Yelling is definitely better than walking away," she said quietly.

I chuckled at her practicality and then slowly pulled my head back so that I could look her in the eye.

"I still don't like this," I told her.

"I don't either, but I don't see that we have much choice, do we?"

"So we're going to Denver," I stated.

"And we're going to trust Lupo. Like I said, we trusted him to look out for Mike. We need to trust him to look out for me."

"I don't know how easily I can do that," I admitted.

"We'll keep in touch with him every step of the way."

I sighed heavily and kissed her one more time before I reluctantly let her go.

"We still have to call Mike," I reminded her as I found my pants in the pile of discarded clothing. She hopped down from the counter and gathered up her clothes.

"We'll do it from the hotel."

We got dressed and then I cleaned up the mess from the broken bottle while she gathered our notes on John's case.

"He does not have a thing for me," she said as she came back into the kitchen. I tossed the last of the glass into the trash can and then stood up to look at her.

"He does," I replied.

"Oh yeah," she said smartly. "Because I'm…what was it that you said? Stable? Sympathetic?"

"And smart," I reminded her. She rolled her eyes at me, and I reached out and pulled her into my arms before adding in a low voice, "And beautiful…funny…"

"Uh huh. It's a little late for flattery," she replied as she put up a token struggle to escape my embrace. But she wasn't serious, so I wasn't about to let her go. I held onto her tightly and whispered into her ear.

"And did I mention how incredibly sexy you are?"

"So John has a crush on me," she stated, still fully ensconced in my arms. "And you know this how?"

"Oh, just little things. The way he looks at you, his tone of voice when he talks to you. I first noticed it Sunday morning."

"And it doesn't bother you? That a good-looking multi-millionaire has a thing for me?"

"No," I replied. "I think he's lonely. And I think that he sees how perfect you are, and he wishes that he had someone like you."

"Bobby, you know that I am not perfect."

"You are to me," I told her. "So you think he's good-looking?"

My voice was still teasing, but I had a slight feeling of unease as I thought about her words.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I think Mike's good-looking, so…"

"You think Mike's good-looking, too?"

"Well, sure," she said as she tilted her head up to look at me. She ran her hand along my check and added, "But he's no Bobby Goren."

She kissed me, a soft, lingering exploration that said _I love you_ just as clearly as if she'd said the words themselves.

"Are you ready to go?" I asked when we finally pulled apart.

"Absolutely. You still owe me a foot rub."

We checked into the now-familiar Roosevelt and once we were settled into our room, I got out my phone.

"Let's get this call out of the way. Then you can take your bath," I told her. She nodded in agreement and we sat down on the bed together.

"Put it on speaker," she said. "If he's going to yell, it may as well be at both of us."

And so I called.

I felt like an ass, both for calling him while on vacation and yet for not calling him sooner.

"What's wrong?" is how he answered the phone.

"Why does something have to be wrong?" I replied.

"I've been in Rio one day, and you're calling. A text message would've taken care of _hi, how're you doing_. A phone call means that there's trouble."

"There are actually two things," Alex began. "But we're not going to tell you either unless you promise to finish out your vacation."

"I'm not promising until you tell me what's going on."

"Mike, I'm serious," she said. "You're coming back on Saturday. Period."

"Alex, I'll come back right now if you don't tell me what the hell is going on."

"We're working on a case for John," I said quickly, interrupting the pissing match between the two of them. "He asked us to try to find out who murdered Heidi."

"Why now?" he asked suspiciously.

Anyone who said that Mike wasn't smart or intuitive needed to have their head examined.

Alex explained the situation in Denver, and subsequently what little bit we'd learned about Heidi so far.

"How's he holding up?" Mike asked when she finished.

"He's drinking a lot," I replied. "And he's got a short fuse."

"Yeah, he's definitely my mother's son," Mike muttered. "But he's okay? I mean, he's not completely self-destructing?"

"So far he's holding it together," Alex told him.

"Okay," he said. And then he added, "And you guys knew about this when?"

Like I said, he's pretty damn smart.

"Sunday," Alex answered. "But…"

"Damn it, guys, really? You should've said something! Now I'm sixteen goddamn hours away, and…"

He stopped talking suddenly, and I had a good feeling that Carolyn had put an end to his tirade.

"Hang on," he added after a moment.

"She'll calm him down," Alex said to me.

"Either that, or she'll come after us, too."

"No. She knew that something was up."

"You told her?"

"No, but she guessed. I told her not to ask."

"Alright," Mike said when he came back on the line. "Okay, I get why you waited."

"We didn't even know if there would be anything to it," I clarified. "And now there is, but it's not anything that we can't handle."

"I know. You'll take care of it. I'm sorry for getting a little crazy."

"It's fine, Mike. And we'll keep you up to date with it," Alex told him.

"What else?" he asked. "You said that there were two things."

"Oh…um…" I began. I glanced at Alex and she took over.

"Mike Stoat killed himself in prison."

"So you're giving me good news?" he asked guardedly.

"It's possible that he put out a hit before he died," she explained.

"On who?"

"Me."

There was silence on the line for a moment, and then he said firmly.

"We'll be there tomorrow night."

TBC...


	15. Chapter 15

**Logan POV**

* * *

Alex's news that Stoat had killed himself was interesting enough, but alone it wouldn't have warranted a phone call.

I knew that there was more, and it only took another second for her to fess up.

"It's possible that he put out a hit before he died," she explained.

"On who?" I asked as a strong sense of dread worked its way through me.

I knew the answer.

I mean, it didn't take a genius to know that it was either Bobby or Alex.

And either way, my response would be the same.

"Me," Alex said.

I took a deep breath and looked at Carolyn apologetically.

We were going to have to leave our paradise after only one day.

But I knew that she would be in complete agreement with me when I said, "We'll be there tomorrow night."

"Mike, no," Bobby said firmly.

"How can you say no? You, of all people! I would think that you'd be calling in the damn National Guard!"

"We're saying no because we've got good cops following leads and working the case," Alex said. "And Bobby knows that."

Her tone told me that the two of them had already had this argument. I knew that it probably wouldn't take much to flip him to my side.

"Good cops like who?"

"Lupo and Bernard," she replied. "They're already knee deep in it."

I hesitated.

Lupo _was _good. He'd looked out for Carolyn, and if I trusted him to watch her, then I could trust him to watch Alex.

"Tell me exactly what you know," I stated.

And yeah, I sounded a bit bossy, but they took it for what it was.

Fear.

Alex told me what was going on in her concise, analytical manner.

"Mike, I know you're worried," Bobby added. "But you also have to know that I'm not taking this lightly. We're in a hotel tonight, and then tomorrow we're leaving for Denver. If things haven't settled by the time we're ready to come home, then we'll re-evaulate. There's nothing more that you and Carolyn can do."

"Okay," I agreed.

"Okay?" Alex asked in surprise.

"Hey, I'm a reasonable guy. I hear what you're saying. But if this thing gets worse, you call me back."

"Of course."

"Right _then._ Not two days later," I elaborated. I was still a little miffed that they hadn't told me about John's thing on Sunday, but I could appreciate their reluctance.

"So you're liking Rio, huh?" Bobby asked.

"What's not to like? You should check it out some time."

"Don't tempt me. I'd like to be on the next plane out."

I'd like for them to be on the next plane out, too, but I knew that wasn't going to happen.

I hung up with the Gorens and filled in the blanks for Carolyn.

"So it's not for certain that someone's after her," Carolyn said when I finished.

"Well, no. But what was up with the guy at their door? And the computer breach?"

"I don't know. I can get us a flight out tomorrow," she offered.

"No, but let me make a couple of calls."

So I called John, but it went to voice mail.

And then I called Lupo.

I wanted his take on the situation to make sure that Alex and Bobby weren't holding out on me, and then I got his promise to keep me apprised.

When I hung up with him, I called Ross. I figured that it wouldn't hurt to have a little more back-up.

When I finished, I threw myself onto the bed and let out a heavy sigh.

"Everybody's on it?" Carolyn asked me.

"Everyone but us. What do you know about that stripper? Isn't she the one you had a run-in with?"

"I know she hits like a girl," she answered with a shrug. Then she climbed onto the bed and laid down next to me. "And she's obsessed with Stoat. She'd do whatever he asked."

"I wonder if Lupo pulled her LUDs," I mused. "And that cell she mentioned tossing in the river…she wouldn't give up the real number. And why would she actually toss it in the river?"

"Maybe it had evidence on it."

"I bet Stoat called Candi from it."

"So the number would show up on her LUDs," Carolyn stated. "Which means that they'd be able to track the real number of that missing cell, and in turn, get the logs for that phone. They might be able to see who Stoat contacted about the hit."

"If he contacted anyone," I said as I got up again to grab my phone.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to call Lupo again and make sure he's checking the LUDs."

"I'm sure he will. He's a good detective."

"Yeah, I know," I agreed. "Okay, I'll just send him a text."

So I sent him a message.

_**Check Candi's LUDs to find the missing cell.**_

Then I sent four more.

_**And see if any of that money is traceable. **_

_**And have someone sit on the Gorens' place. **_

_**And run that print through the military and law enforcement database.**_

_**And put out a BOLO on that picture the old man took.**_

After a minute, I got a text back.

_**I am doing all of those things. You just keep applying that sun block.**_

"Feel better?" Carolyn asked me as she read the message over my shoulder.

"I guess so."

"Good, because I think it's been longer than a few minutes."

"Which means what?" I asked, although judging by the look in her eye, I had a pretty good idea.

"You said that was all you needed," she reminded me as she pulled me back down onto the bed. "Come on. You're too tense."

"Are you going to help me relax?"

"I am," she promised on a whisper. "Now close your eyes."

**

* * *

**

Lupo POV

I sat on the couch with pages upon pages of Candi Ayers' phone records.

I wasn't sure if it was completely ethical or not, but Connie was helping me. We each had a stack and we were going through with a highlighter, marking incoming calls from cell phone numbers.

It was a tedious process, but I hoped that eventually we'd be able to narrow down which number Stoat had been calling from.

Because so far, the one she'd given me appeared to be fake. I had a guy looking into it, but it was looking iffy.

Tomorrow, Bernard and I were going to put the squeeze on Testarossa, but for tonight, Bernard had a date.

A _third_ date, which meant that he really didn't want me to interrupt him.

Or so he'd said at least a dozen times.

So I was doing paperwork.

The phone call from Logan had been a surprise, but only because I hadn't expected the Gorens to call him.

"I know I already owe you one favor, but how about we say I'll owe you two?"

"Um…I'm pretty sure that we're square," I replied. I didn't do things to make people indebted to me. I did things because they were right. "But what else can I do for you?"

"You find this asshole who's after Alex and put him away."

"I'm working as fast as I can, my friend."

"Any progress?"

So I updated him, although I had a feeling that he already knew everything. He probably had just hung up with them minutes before.

"Keep me up to speed, okay?" he asked.

"You got it," I promised.

I hung up with him, and then a minute later, I got a text. And then another. And then another.

"He doesn't think much of your investigative abilities, does he?" Connie chuckled when the fifth one came in.

"He's just worried," I answered as I typed in a reply. "He's a starter, not a benchwarmer."

"He should be enjoying Rio with his wife," she murmured as she shifted her focus back to the phone logs. "Hey, Lupo…"

"What did you find?" I asked her as I tossed my phone back onto the coffee table and moved closer to her.

I knew that tone. She had something.

"Look at this. Every time this number calls, the next entry is outgoing to this number," she said, pointing out the specifics with her finger. "And I mean every time. Look. Twice this day. Then three times the next day. Once the following day."

"So Stoat called Candi," I stated as I read over her shoulder. "And then asked her to call this person."

"Uh huh," she replied with a grin. "Because last week, the incoming number changed, but the outgoing number is the same. Give me your phone."

"Am I going to like this?"

"I'm a lawyer. You think I'm going to do something illegal?"

She _was_ a lawyer, but that didn't mean she wouldn't push the envelope.

But she had my curiosity piqued, both about the number and about her plan, so I picked up my cell and handed it to her.

First she dialed the number that had been calling Candi prior to last week.

"No longer in service," she told me after listening for a minute.

"So it _could_ be at the bottom of the river. We could be on to something."

"Maybe," she agreed. Then she dialed the subsequent number that Candi had been calling.

"This is Janette with Diamond Repo Service. I wanted to give you a courtesy call that within the next twenty-four hours, a team will be out to repossess your vehicle."

She spoke with an impressive Brooklyn accent, and I found myself staring at her with my mouth hanging open.

"No, it's no mistake. I've got the papers right here….yeah, that's right…Gina Streebeck."

Connie gave me a wink, and then picked up a pen from the coffee table.

"Well, is there someone else there by that name? Are you sure? Spell that again for me, honey."

She jotted down a name and handed me the paper.

April Lieszak.

She hung up and gave me the phone.

"It was a woman," she said. "And she says that she's the only one who lives there."

"A woman assassin? But it was a man at the Gorens' apartment."

"Maybe there are two of them working together? I don't know," she said. "Maybe this is something else because she'd have to be a pretty dumb assassin to fall for that ruse."

"Unless she was fairly certain that no one would be able to track her down," I offered as I sent a text to Jeffries requesting him to pull up whatever he could find on this Lieszak woman.

"_And_ you probably freaked her out by making her think she was going to lose her car," I added. "She might have let her guard down."

"That's true. But whichever the case, now you've got a name and a phone number. It's a place to start."

"And I am so completely turned on right now," I told her as I tossed the phone onto the coffee table and pushed her back against the arm of the sofa.

She laughed as I started kissing her neck.

"Detective work gets you hot?" she asked. "Do I need to worry about you when you're working late with Bernard?"

"Keep it up, Counselor," I growled as I made quick work of the buttons on her blouse. "I'll tell McCoy about your propensity for making prank calls."

"You do that and I'll tell Ross the real reason why you were late going back to work today," she countered.

A good lesson to be learned when dating a lawyer: never participate in a verbal sparring match.

At least not when talking is the last thing on your mind.

So I let her threat be the last words spoken until she started up with a steady stream of _more, harder, faster_.

See, it's not such a hardship to let her have the last word.

Normally in situations such as this, speed is frowned upon, but in the middle of an investigation or a trial, Connie and I went with the motto of _get what you can when you can_.

A hard and fast quickie was better than nothing at all.

Twenty minutes later, we were sufficiently spent and sweaty, and that was when my cell phone rang.

"Impeccable timing, Detective Lupo," she told me with a grin. "It was almost as though you knew exactly how long it would take Jefferies to get your information."

I smirked at her and reached for my phone.

"Lupo," I answered.

"Your girl's got a sheet," Jeffries told me.

"For what?"

"Prostitution and drug possession."

"What else do we know?"

"She is gainfully employed," he said drolly. "She's a stripper at a club called Arcadia."

Arcadia. That was where Candi worked, so that would be how she knew Lieszak.

But why would she have called her exclusively after every conversation with Stoat?

"Give me her address," I said. "And pull the LUDs on this number."

I spouted off the disconnected cell that I was now attributing to Stoat, and then I jotted down the address for April Lieszak.

"Email the LUDs to my phone, okay?" I told him.

I hung up with him and looked at Connie.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I'm going to have to go check this out."

"I know," she said. "Are you going to call Bernard?"

"Nah. It's just a look-see. And he's on a date. I think I can handle one stripper by myself."

"Lupo…that's not a good idea. What if she's the hit man?"

"A hit man who moonlights as a stripper," I mused as I pulled on my jeans. "I don't think I'm buying that. More likely than not, she's involved as a go-between."

"Maybe," she agreed thoughtfully. She got up and went into the bedroom.

"But I'm coming with you," she called out.

"Connie, this is work."

"Right. And you're not taking your partner," she said reasonably. She came back out of the bedroom, now in a pair of jeans and she was pulling a sweater over her head. "So you're taking me."

At my hesitation, she picked up her cell phone from the table.

"It's me or Bernard," she warned.

"Do you ever lose an argument?" I asked her.

"No," she answered with a smile.

"Okay," I said slowly. "But you're staying in the car."

She grabbed her jacket and met me at the door.

Bernard was going to owe me big for not disrupting his date.

But it was a quick stop to check out one woman on whom I would have the element of surprise.

What was the worst that could happen?

TBC...


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Yeah. Okay. I'm bored. So this is what you get. A three-fer. Enjoy, and have a nice weekend!**

**Bobby POV**

* * *

We landed at Denver International Airport at ten a.m. local time.

The flight had been smooth and quick. Of course, we were on John's private jet, so that had helped considerably. No crying babies, no waiting in lines to board...

"I think we need to get one of these," Alex remarked when the sleek aircraft took off from JFK.

But after that she'd been all business.

Even when I tried to get her to join the mile high club.

"We need to go through this stuff again. The Denver PD is not thrilled that we're coming, so we need to make sure that we're prepared," she commented, and then she lowered her voice to a whisper. "And the pilots are _right up there_."

"You think that no one has ever had sex on this plane before?" I asked her with a grin.

"I didn't say that. I said that _we're_ not having sex on this plane," she replied firmly. "What if they have to do an emergency landing or something? What if the plane suddenly loses altitude?"

I picked up a piece of paper from her lap and let out a long sigh.

"Okay. It's fine," I said. "Don't worry about it."

I waited a beat, and then continued.

"Just because it's something that I've always wanted to do…"

"Bobby…"

"Carolyn would do it," I teased, just to get a rise out of her.

I was feeling pretty good since we were getting out of the city.

And on a non-commercial flight, with no record of ticket purchase, very few people knew where we were going.

And none of them were hit men.

So yeah, I was in a great mood.

And knowing that Alex rarely backed down from a challenge, I wanted to see what she would do when I tossed Carolyn's name out there.

She was competitive, my Alex. She hated to feel like she was coming out on the losing end of a comparison.

Not that she ever did, as far as I was concerned.

"No she wouldn't," she retorted.

"She's at a nude beach," I reminded her. "You think she's inhibited?"

"She's afraid to fly," she answered nonchalantly, not rising to my bait.

"Good point," I conceded.

"You were really going to try to double-dog dare me into having sex with you?" she asked, but she couldn't hold back the smirk.

"I just wanted to see if you would," I admitted.

"I'll make a deal with you," she stated. "Let's solve this case. And then if we fly home alone, you're on."

I wasn't sure if she was entirely serious or not, but a shot of excitement rolled through me at the possibility.

But first we had to solve the case. Work came first, as usual. And neither of us would have it any other way.

"Mr. Goren, can I get you anything?" the co-pilot asked as he stuck his head out of the door of the cockpit.

"No, thank you. We're fine."

"See?" she said, gesturing at his retreating form. "If we'd started..."

"On the way home," I said firmly, leaning across the seat to kiss her on the forehead. Then I grabbed a document from her lap, and asked her, "Now, where do we want to start?"

It was tough to know exactly where to go first, but like I said, just getting out of the city helped me to focus better on Heidi's case.

Lupo had called last night to let us know his progress.

He'd been able to get the number of Stoat's old cell and was in the process of pulling records.

He'd also spoken with a co-worker of Candi's named April Lieszak who, after cold-cocking Lupo with a wine bottle, had admitted to knowing about Stoat's contraband cell phone, but only in the sense that Candi would call her after talking with Stoat.

For the purpose of crying on her shoulder, according to April.

Supposedly she knew nothing about any wrong-doing or any money.

Lupo said that he had his doubts as to the veracity of her story, so he'd booked her on assault and then gone home to put ice on his head.

He and Bernard were going to put the screws to Testarossa today.

I was curious to hear what he had to say. He had been a powerful man in the drug business and even though he was behind bars, I had a good feeling that he was still very much in control of all of his enterprises.

John had also called us last night.

He'd wanted to apologize yet again for losing his cool with me and Alex, and to let us know that he was sending his jet to JFK for the flight to Denver.

I told him that it wasn't necessary, but he'd insisted. And since he was picking up the tab for our expenses anyway, who was I to argue?

So with the exception of the possibility of there being a price on Alex's head, things were actually going fairly well.

Mike had handled the news about John's case much better than expected. In fact, he'd been more upset about the potential hit than he'd been about us keeping the Heidi case a secret.

John seemed to have regained some semblance of control over his emotions. I had no doubt that it would probably get worse again before it got better, but at least he was aware of his actions and cared enough to feel remorse.

And Lupo and Bernard were going full-steam ahead on the assassin case.

So all that was left was for me and Alex to do was to get to the bottom of the Heidi Casper mystery.

And as difficult as that may seem, that was what we lived for.

"I would say either the medical examiner or the police station," Alex answered to my question of where to start. "Although you know, now that Mike knows what we're working on, it's not a secret anymore. Maybe we could get Liz to talk to the ME while we take a look at everything they have on file from the investigation."

"We need to check out the notes on the investigation of the current murder, too," I reminded her.

"Uh huh," she agreed. "And John said that they have a suspect. I wonder if they've made an arrest yet."

"I don't know, but I'd love to have a chat with him."

"Lucky for you we have an in," she replied.

And she was right.

Doors were opening, albeit slowly, due to John's ties to the AG. Otherwise the cops would be much less likely to cooperate.

"Call Liz when we get to the police station," I suggested. "Bring her up to speed on what she was looking at yesterday, and ask if she'll call the ME to fill in the gaps. We want to know what happened to the photographs, as well as the results of the lab work run on the sample taken from her lips."

"Right. And I want to go out to the crime scene. I know it's been ten years, but I still need to see it and get a feel for what happened."

I knew exactly what she meant. Things didn't completely add up.

"Did Caduceus ever locate her itinerary?" I asked her.

"I'm not sure, but I'll follow up with them this morning," Alex told me.

She'd requested that the company get the documentation from Heidi's trip, such as what businesses she was scheduled to call on, the hotel she'd planned to stay at. She'd been killed on the day that she'd arrived, so she'd never actually checked in anywhere.

But knowing the geography of her plans might help us out, because so far, it was a mystery as to why she would have been traveling on East Colfax.

The Denver PD was using that fact as exhibit A. As far as they were concerned, she was clearly in the area to score some drugs.

Originally, I'd had trouble picturing a well-off businesswoman trolling the east side of Denver looking to make a buy, but since I'd learned more about Heidi, learned that she'd grown up on the gritty streets of Norfolk, maybe it wasn't such a stretch.

But I wasn't going to jump on the bandwagon with the locals just yet. I wanted to reach my own conclusion.

So we arrived at DIA at a few minute after ten and were met in the terminal by Detective Rollins.

"Nice to meet you," Alex said cordially as she offered her hand.

He accepted it reluctantly, and then looked back and forth between us with unmasked skepticism.

"You two are the hotshots from back east?"

"Uh…we're just investigators trying to solve a crime," I replied carefully.

Clearly this man was less than overjoyed with the perceived poaching of his case.

"The crime's already been solved," he said. "So now it just seems like you're milking a grieving man for his money."

"Detective Rollins," Alex said sharply. "We'd appreciate it if you'd keep your opinions to yourself. Right now, we'd just like to see the evidence and then we'll make up our own minds."

"Whatever you say," he answered with a shrug. "I've got a car out front. I'll drive us over to headquarters, and then you can use it while you're in town."

The drive from the airport to the police station was made in virtual silence. I could feel the resentment rolling off of the detective, but he kept his mouth shut.

When we arrived at the headquarters, Rollins got out and tossed me the keys.

"There's a conference room on the second floor. I had all of the evidence on the Casper case taken in there. You two can set up shop and check up on my work."

"Detective," I began, but he held up a hand and interrupted me.

"You can think whatever you want," he said. "But that woman was no innocent bystander. She was on East Colfax making a buy, and she got popped by Manny Valero."

"That's who you have in custody?" Alex asked him. "For killing Ramone Cortez?"

"That's right. And the same gun that killed Casper killed Cortez. It's Valero's personal piece. And he's not a warrior, he's a chief. So you tell me how that works any other way."

"That's what we want to find out," I told him. "I'd like to talk to Valero. Would that be possible?"

"He just got picked up last night. He's being arraigned this morning."

"On charges of both murders?"

"That's right. I'll see what I can do about arranging a sit-down this afternoon."

"Thank you," I said. "We appreciate it."

He just shrugged and led the way into the building, and then gestured toward the stairwell.

"Upstairs, down the hall, last door on the left."

"I'm overwhelmed by his hospitality," Alex muttered as we headed up the stairs.

"Well, he _is_ giving us a room to work in and a car to drive. He might not be such an asshole after all."

"Hmm," she mused dubiously.

We went down the hall to the designated room and opened the door.

It was more of a closet than a conference room.

It was windowless and smelled of feet and something else indefinable.

There was a work surface about the size of a small card table. It was tilted at an odd angle, and parked underneath it were two metal folding chairs.

The temperature felt to be nearly forty degrees warmer than the pleasant-feeling hallway, and yet the heat was still pumping.

The yellowish overhead light was flickering while making a continuous humming noise.

After looking around, I looked at Alex and she gave me a cynical grin.

"Oh, I'd say that he's definitely an asshole," she said. "Twenty bucks says he cuts the brake lines on the car while we're in here, too."

"Nah," I said as I took off first my overcoat and then my suit jacket. "But the gas tank is probably empty."

"What is that smell?" she asked me as she removed the outer two layers of clothing before sitting down in a rickety chair.

"I'm going with feet," I said.

And I couldn't help it. I had to chuckle.

"This has got to be the worst work space that I have ever seen," I told her. "Even the Army never put me in anything like this, and I pissed them off on a regular basis."

"Well, let's get it over with," she said, opening up the lone box on the table.

She began pulling out the files and bags of evidence while I decided to forego decorum and lose the tie. It was too damn hot to be formal. I tucked it into my jacket pocket and then unbuttoned the top two buttons on my shirt before glancing down at the table.

"There are actually crime scene photos?" I asked as I sat down. "I was kind of expecting those to be missing, too."

"Uh huh," she agreed. She was already staring intently at a couple of the pictures. "So the initial story was that she was mugged. Tough to get mugged when you're in your car, though, and why would she have gotten out in a bad neighborhood?"

"So the second story is better, except that John doesn't believe that she was into drugs."

"Right. That working theory is that she knew these guys, or at least knew where to score, and she went there specifically to make a buy."

"There were no drugs on her when the body was discovered."

"And only two dollars."

"So the buy went bad and the dealers took their drugs back before killing her," I suggested.

"Rollins is saying this Valero guy is near the top. Why would he be out selling on the street?"

We were both quiet for a minute as we looked through the photos.

"Notice what's missing," I commented.

"Uh huh," she replied immediately. "No photos of the body. These are all shots of the crime scene after the body was removed."

Shot after shot showed the blood-stained concrete sidewalk from various angles. One showed a late model sedan, Heidi's rental, parked along the curb. The driver's side door was open.

"We need to get those coroner photos," I said.

"I'll call Liz right now," she replied as she pulled out her phone. "Huh, no signal. Imagine that," she said sarcastically.

She stood up, tugging at the back of her shirt, which was already soaked in sweat.

"I'll go out in the hall to make the call," she told me. "Come with me. If you stay in here much longer, you're going to need a smaller belt just to keep your pants up."

I got up and followed her, mostly because the thought of breathing in fresh air for a minute was too tempting to pass up.

But those photos were really bugging me.

"How's it coming?"

The question came from a young detective who was headed our direction. He had two cans of Coke in his hand.

"Depends on whether the goal was to clear my pores or to solve a murder," Alex replied.

"Yeah, I know. It's a little hot in there," he said with a smile. "Detective Keyes," he introduced. "I'm Rollins' partner."

"Ah, the good cop," Alex quipped.

"Rollins is okay. He's been a cop for a long time," he defended easily. "But anyway, I…um…I thought that you might want a um…drink."

He casually handed me the drinks, and at the same time he managed to slip me a piece of paper.

He gave me a pointed look and then took a couple of steps backwards.

"Hey, if you two have time for dinner tonight, come find me. I'll be around the station most of the day."

"What are you, the welcome wagon? Or were you just tasked with keeping an eye on us?"

"Yes," he answered ambiguously. He flashed us a smile and then turned and walked away.

"I guess not _all_ of the Denver PD hates us. So, what is it?" Alex asked once Keyes was out of earshot.

"It looks like a page out of his notebook," I said as I glanced over the lined piece of paper. "It indicates the Heidi was arrested six months before her death."

"For what? We didn't find anything on her record."

"Distribution of narcotics."

TBC...


	17. Chapter 17

**Alex POV**

* * *

The discovery that Heidi had been arrested prior to her death only served to muddy the water even more.

Did that mean that she had a history of drug use? The arrest notes said _distribution_, which meant that she'd possessed a quantity larger than for that of personal use.

The term _narcotics_ was a generalization, and no specific details were offered.

There was no mention of weight, packaging, or the type of drug recovered.

How had she managed to skate on the charges?

And why wasn't it on her record?

And more importantly, why wasn't the arrest part of the original case file?

Considering where her body was found, surely a prior drug arrest was relevant, and would point investigators in a direction other than a random mugging.

And why was Rollins keeping it from us while Keyes had supplied it on the sly?

My head was spinning from the onslaught of questions.

"Call Liz," Bobby encouraged me after we'd stood in the hallway for several long minute just staring at the piece of paper.

He looked equally dumbfounded.

It wasn't easy to get a record expunged and certainly not once a person hit adulthood.

"You think she was going to roll?" I suggested as I dialed the number.

"That usually will get you a walk, but not a blank slate," he replied.

"Keyes isn't old enough to have been a homicide detective ten years ago. This can't be from his notebook."

"You think he stole it from Rollins?"

"That's pretty ballsy to steal from your partner and then give it to the perceived enemy," I remarked just as Liz answered the phone.

"Alex! Danny tells me that you and Bobby are in the Mile High City! Beautiful, isn't it?"

She always sounded so genuinely glad to hear from me that it put me in a better mood.

I used to think that she just enjoyed getting a break from cutting up cadavers, but now I realized that it was because she truly liked me.

"Well, not much time for sightseeing so far," I told her. "We could use your help though, when you get a few minutes."

"I've got time. What do you need?"

So I told her our remaining questions about the autopsy report that we'd gotten her to look at yesterday, and then I filled in the blanks as to the specifics of the case.

"Can you give the ME out here a call and pump him for more information?"

"Sure," she answered quickly. "Poor John. How's he holding up?"

"He'll be better once this thing is put to rest."

"Well, I'll see if I can help speed up the process then," she said. "I'll call Dr. Stern and get you the scoop."

"Thanks, Liz. Give me a call when you know something."

I hung up the phone and looked at Bobby. I wasn't quite ready to go back into the sauna.

"We need to have dinner with Keyes," he told me, still looking at the piece of paper.

"Uh huh," I agreed. "He knows more than he's telling."

"I'm not going to stand around and wait while he feeds us little bits of information at a time," Bobby stated, finally bringing his eyes up to mine. "So how does this change our theory?"

"Local PD's not going to be able to eradicate a distribution charge," I stated.

Bobby nodded his head as he followed my line of thinking.

"Feds."

"Which would mean what?" I asked. "She got popped one time. What kind of information could she have that the feds would be interested in?"

"Better yet, what the hell was she doing with the drugs in the first place?" Bobby said. "She was out here meeting up with clients. Even if, and this is a big _if_, but even if she was a user that doesn't explain why she'd have enough weight on her to get that kind of charge."

"Maybe this is where her source is and so she had to get enough to last her until she came back," I proposed.

"We need to talk to the FBI."

"They're not going to talk to us," I reminded him.

"No, but maybe they'll tell us something with what they _won't_ say."

So we each re-dressed into our season-appropriate attire and then we left the police station in search of the FBI field office.

After putting the address into my phone's GPS, I realized that although it would probably be quicker to get there via the interstate, we could also travel by way of Colfax.

"Want to take the scenic route?" I offered.

"I'm packing. Let's go."

We were just west of the city center, so when I turned onto route 40, it was initially West Colfax.

Three blocks later, it changed to the designation of East.

A couple of miles after that, it didn't change names but it sure as hell changed dynamic.

On a map, East Colfax looks like any other street.

In person, it had an ominous feel. And we were here in the daylight.

I could only imagine what types of individuals came out at night.

I also couldn't picture a scenario where a woman alone would get out of her car on the residential section of this street.

I mean,_ I_ would, but only if I had to and I'd be sure that I had my gun.

"Why would she get out of her car?" Bobby muttered as he looked out the window.

"That's exactly what I was thinking. Maybe this _was_ her hook-up location. Maybe she _was_ into dealing," I proposed.

"You think John wouldn't know that she was involved with drugs?"

"I'm wondering if he knew her at all," I answered.

"If she was grabbed by the feds, and then six months later she was back here…"

He let his words trail off, but I heard them as though he was saying it out loud.

"You think that she was on a sting. That they had her wired or something," I said. "That was her payment for them blowing the charge."

And the more I thought about that idea, the more realistic it seemed.

That would explain the hasty decision to call it a mugging.

That would explain why it was a high-up who'd killed her.

Maybe she was trying to infiltrate the drug ring as much as possible to be able to keep that arrest off her record.

"And if it went bad," I continued. "Then they might've scrambled to cover it up."

"Maybe," he agreed with a nod. "What do you think the odds are that the whole thing is on tape?"

**

* * *

**

Strathmore POV

For the second night in a row, I got drunk and dreamed about Alex.

I woke up Wednesday morning with a killer headache, a raging hard-on, and a fresh sense of self-loathing.

I had to do something about this destructive path that I was on before it was too late.

Otherwise I was going to ruin my new relationship with my brother.

It was no secret that Mike loved Alex like a sister, and if he thought for one second that I was ravaging her in my dreams, well…I'd be lucky if he _only_ quit talking to me.

More than likely, he'd be the first in a long line of people who wanted a piece of my hide.

As I stared at the ceiling and tried to decide if I needed to throw-up, I thought about my latest obsession.

This wasn't like me at all.

I didn't dream about women.

I _had_ women.

Maybe the problem was that I wasn't staying busy enough. Jessica had been kind to clear my schedule, but the truth was that I needed work to keep my mind occupied.

Since the shooting, I'd gotten in the habit of hitting the bourbon around noon.

And now that the investigation into Heidi's murder was re-opened, I pondered that while in an inebriated state, which started me thinking about Alex…and then that was when the real trouble started.

The excessive drinking was bad enough, but Alex…I had to find a way to stop the fantasies.

I needed to focus.

I needed to be useful.

And maybe I needed to find a damn woman of my own instead of lusting after someone else's.

So I headed for the shower with new purpose.

I took care of my early morning…issue, and then proceeded to get ready for the day.

I didn't need to sit idly by while this investigation was going on.

If Jessica had cleared my schedule, then I would use the time to my advantage and look into things from this end while Bobby and Alex poked around in Denver.

"Rocco," I said when my assistant answered his cell phone. "We're going to Trenton today. Have the car ready in half an hour."

"Yes sir," he replied, and he sounded excited. He'd probably been concerned about my lack of direction lately, too.

I downed two cups of coffee before I left the room with new life.

No more dreams about Alex.

No more killing a bottle of Jack each night.

Today was going to be productive, and tonight…well, tonight maybe I'd find someone exactly the _opposite_ of Alex.

Rocco was ready for me when I exited the mid-town hotel that I'd checked into for the night. I got into the back of the car and settled in for the drive to Trenton.

I figured that I could make a couple of calls along the way, so I started with the old acquaintance from Caduceus.

I hadn't spoken with him since not long after Heidi's funeral, and so it didn't surprise me to learn that he no longer worked for the company.

"I left three years ago," he told me when I reached him at a home number that was listed with information. We quickly by-passed the pleasantries and then I asked him for information.

"Who was Heidi friendly with at the company?"

"She was a nice girl," he said. "She had a lot of friends."

"Can you give me some names? I'm headed to Trenton now. I thought that maybe I could talk with a few of them."

"John, what's going on?"

"There's been some new evidence that has come to light," I told him. "I've hired private investigators."

"It was a tragedy, but don't you think that it's time to move on?"

"I'd like to," I replied honestly. "But I'm not sure that I can until this is put to rest."

He sighed, but then he tossed out a few names for me.

"I think that Kara Quintana and Leanne Frasier are still with the company," he said. "Kara and Heidi were friends for a while, but they had some sort of falling out. I don't know, maybe a year before she was killed."

"You don't know what it was about?"

"Women are fickle," he said dismissively. "How should I know?"

"Anything else you can think of? Did Heidi ever get any bad performance reviews or did she ever receive any reprimands?"

"No, she was great," he insisted.

"Okay, thanks."

Rocco pulled the car up in front of the Caduceus home office just before noon.

"I'm not sure how long I'll be," I told him. "Go get some lunch or something. I'll call when I'm ready."

"I'll wait," he offered, but I waved him off.

"No, go ahead."

I ignored the slight feeling of nausea that hit me as I walked through the front doors and was struck by a memory.

I hadn't been in this building since a couple of weeks before Heidi died. I'd come by unexpectedly to take her to lunch, and I'd run into her in the lobby as she was on her way out.

"_Oh, I can't today, sweetie. I'm so sorry that you came all the way out here."_

"_I was in the neighborhood. You can't get away for even a few minutes?"_

"_No, I'm sorry. I didn't plan on taking a lunch, so I scheduled a noon meeting."_

"_Where? I'll drive you and we can talk in the car."_

"_Oh, um…it's um…downtown…um…American Metro Blvd."_

"_Near the federal building?"_

"_Uh huh."_

"_Get in."_

And so I'd driven her downtown.

I didn't have Rocco with me that day, but instead I was out in the Mercedes. It had been a whim to stop, but I was glad that I did.

She'd chattered continuously throughout the drive, and then kissed my cheek when she got out of the car.

"_I'll see you tonight. I love you,"_ she'd told me just before she closed the door.

I could hear her voice like it was yesterday.

I could smell her perfume, and feel the smooth fabric of her silk blouse.

"Sir, can I help you?"

The receptionist in the lobby gave me a long-suffering look, and I could only guess as to how many times she'd had to repeat herself while I was stuck in a past decade.

"Yes, I'm here to see Kara Quintana," I stated.

"Ms. Quintana is in a meeting."

"I can wait. What about Leanne Frasier?"

"She is…not in the office today," she informed me after checking the computer. "She's due to be back on Friday."

"Okay. When Kara is done, please let her know that John Strathmore is waiting to see her."

"Yes sir."

I didn't bother asking the receptionist if she remembered Heidi. Ten years ago, this girl was probably still in grade school.

I had a seat and checked my phone for messages.

Jennifer, the girl from Vegas. She was still single, having left her man at the altar. She wanted to know if I could hook up with her for a reunion in Sin City.

No.

Morgan, a girl from two weeks ago. She was dying to see me again and would I please call her back.

No.

Although I remembered that she was my first after getting shot, and I'd been impressed with my one-armed performance.

Apparently so had she.

Then there was a message from Vanessa, from last week. She wanted to know if she had left her earrings on my night stand.

_Of course_ she had. That was the oldest trick in the book.

But until she'd left the message, I couldn't remember whose they were. Now that I knew, I could get Rocco to call her to return them.

The last message was from Monique. She was last Friday night. I had a vague recall of black hair and blue eyes, but beyond that, it was all a blur.

I tucked my phone back into my pocket and leaned back in the chair.

There were no two ways about it. I was in a downward spiral.

I've always enjoyed women. Enjoyed sex.

But I used to make an effort to get to know the woman a bit first, too. At least have a conversation with her.

These last few had been…well, just sex. The fact that I knew their names was a miracle, because I doubted that I could pick any of them out of a line-up.

"Mr. Strathmore?"

"Yes," I said, quickly getting to my feet.

"I'm sorry, but I was mistaken when I told you that Ms. Quintana was in a meeting. She is not actually on the premises."

"Really," I stated in disbelief as I checked my watch.

I'd been waiting for thirty-five minutes. There was no way that the receptionist had just realized her mistake.

"Yes sir. I'm terribly sorry."

She went back to work at her computer, effectively dismissing me.

I slowly turned and headed for the doors. When I got outside, I pulled my phone out and called Jessica.

"Jessica, it's me John."

"Yes sir. Is everything okay?"

"It's fine. Do me a favor," I told her, and then I explained what I needed her to do.

In three minutes, she called me back.

"Kara Quintana just finished a meeting, and she'll be leaving the building in five minutes to go to lunch," Jessica told me triumphantly.

"Nice work," I complimented. "Thanks."

I hung up with her and walked around the corner of the building.

For whatever reason, Kara didn't want to meet with me.

Well I was sure as hell going to find out why.

TBC...


	18. Chapter 18

**Liz POV**

* * *

There's a thing called professional courtesy.

It's a fairly common phrase these days whereas people in the same or similar profession give slightly better treatment to each other. Possibly even bend the rules a bit for one another.

The phrase actually originated in the medical profession. Doctors taking care of doctors and their families.

But I think that Dr. Stern must have missed that day in medical school.

I called him as soon as I hung up with Alex.

I was anxious to help, but even more so, I was curious as to why the autopsy report was incomplete.

I hate incompetence, especially when it comes from another medical examiner because then that taints the profession as a whole.

If they look bad, by extension, I look bad.

So I called Dr. Stern.

"I can't see how that's any of your business," he responded when I asked him about the report. "What the hell is an ME from New York doing looking at one of my reports anyway?"

And it went downhill from there.

"I'm consulting with investigators who are looking into this case," I told him sharply. "And my question is valid. Why is there no record of the swab results? And where are there photos associated with the exam?"

"Our job is to determine cause of death. Any dumb ass off the street could've told you that her COD was gunshot wounds to the back of the head."

"Our job is also to gather evidence for the investigating officers!" I reminded him, having completely lost my patience. "And your work is shoddy and unprofessional. What if she was dead prior to the gunshots? What if there was some trace evidence on the body that helps determine her killer?"

"If she was already dead, then why shoot her in the head? Besides, we know her killer. He was arrested last night."

"Ten years after the fact and based on a ballistics report," I scoffed. "Why was a swab taken from her lips?"

"My assistant must have done that. I don't know why."

"I'm sure you don't," I retorted. "Where are the results?"

"Like you said, this was ten years ago. Do you know how many autopsies I've done since then?"

"I'm not sure if you've ever done one properly," I bit out. "I can't even confirm that the victim _was_ shot in the head, because we only have your word for it. Were photos even taken?"

"I'm sure that they were."

"But you don't know where they are."

"Miss…"

"It's _Doctor_," I shouted.

"Doctor," he said with heavy sarcasm. "I gave the Denver detective everything that I had. If you have a problem with it, then you should get in touch with him."

"So you gave him photos?"

"I…I don't know. I had my…"

"Assistant do it," I finished. "Uh huh. I'm going to request to have the body exhumed."

"What? Lady, you've lost your mind!"

"If you didn't properly examine her the first time, then someone competent needs to do it now. Before the trial of whomever the police have arrested."

"I _did_ properly examine her. I _did_ determine the correct cause of death. And I'm _not _digging her up!"

"She's buried in New Jersey. It's not up to you."

"It's unnecessary and frankly downright insulting. I'll block your request."

"Give it your best shot," I retorted before slamming down the phone.

"Should I come back?"

I whirled around to find Lupo lingering in the doorway.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," he told me. "If now isn't a good time…"

"It's fine, Detective," I said after taking a deep breath.

_Dr. Stern_.

I was going to call the damn AMA on him.

"I was checking to see if you've had a chance to look at Mike Stoat yet."

"I've got him on the table right now," I told him. "You can stick around if you want."

He eyed me carefully and gave me a nod.

"Everything okay?"

"It's…yes. How's your investigation coming?"

"Slower than I'd like. I'm hoping you'll have some good news for me."

"Are you looking for something in particular?"

"I…think that…I'd rather not say. I wouldn't want to sway your perspective."

"That's a nice shiner you've got there," I remarked as I gloved up and then pulled back the sheet.

"I had a run-in with a stripper," he said sheepishly as he ran his hand over the purplish knot on his cheek.

"It happens," I replied with a shrug.

I did a visual inspection of the body on the table and then got out my camera.

"What did the police report say?" I asked him as I bent over for a closer look.

"A guard found him hanging in his cell. He'd tied a sheet around his neck and then around the top section of bars."

"Never underestimate a person's creativity when he wants to kill himself," I mumbled. "But I don't think that's the case here."

"You can tell that already?"

"The alignment of the ligature marks is wrong. See here?" I asked him as I pointed at the red marking along Stoat's throat. "The force came from directly behind, not above."

"You sure?"

"About that? Yes, absolutely. I'll know more after I finish my exam."

"Thanks, Doc," he said as he trotted toward the door.

"Any time, Detective!"

I was still fuming over Dr. Stern, but Lupo had served to bring me down to a manageable level of anger.

I knew the people in New Jersey.

I'd be sure to give John a heads-up first, but then I'd get the exhumation order.

That way I could check out her remains myself.

Of course, after this amount of time, there would be considerably less to go by, but I had a few tricks up my sleeve.

It would be worth the effort.

**

* * *

**

Lupo POV

Dr. Rodgers had said the exact words that I was hoping to hear.

Stoat hadn't killed himself, but rather he'd had help.

And I had a good feeling that I knew who might have provided that help, or at least who might have knowledge of what had happened.

Prisons are like anyplace else. There was an hierarchy to things, even amongst the prisoners themselves.

And John Testarossa was a guy who liked to be in charge.

"What did she say?" Bernard asked me when I got into the car.

He'd dropped me to check on the body while he'd taken care of making the arrangement to get Testarossa ready for questioning.

"He didn't hang himself," I told him with a grin.

"So we think Testarossa killed him," he stated slowly.

"I don't know. Maybe. But it clears up the mystery of why Stoat would kill himself while he was in the middle of planning a hit."

"Because he didn't."

"Right. So now the question is this. Was it normal jailhouse violence or was he killed for a purpose? And since he _was_ killed, did he actually have time to put the hit in motion before he died?"

"The guy at their apartment says yes," Bernard commented.

"Yeah, but I'm not ready to hang our entire case on a random guy outside their door."

"Testarossa might've known what Stoat was up to since he was the go-between. I'll be curious to see how he reacts to the news that a bulls-eye was put on former Detective Goren. We don't need to be specific which one."

"Exactly. Let's see how he responds to that. And if we can get any kind of clue off of him, then maybe we can fake-out Candi and April."

"You've just got it in for April because she messed up that ugly mug of yours," he replied as he drove us toward Rikers.

"April knows something," I said firmly, ignoring his tease. "And Candi didn't have ten g's sitting around her house for nothing."

My phone buzzed and I pulled it out to check the text.

"It's CSU," I said as I scanned the message.

"On the print?"

"Uh huh. Shit. We got a whitewash hit from the government database on the partial," I said carefully.

"Are you kidding me?" he asked in surprise.

"No. What the hell does that mean?" I asked in frustration.

That kind of hit meant that the partial matched up, but that the details were unavailable.

_Intentionally_ unavailable.

"A prison guard? You think that maybe Stoat was going to pay one of them to kill Goren?"

"Their info wouldn't be confidential," I reminded him.

He knew that, but like me, he was floored by the news. We were both grasping for an explanation.

"Maybe the guy wasn't coming to kill her," he said. "IRS? You think the Gorens owe back taxes?"

I rolled my eyes at him and wracked my brain.

"Maybe it's someone who's gone off the grid."

"And slipped over to the dark side? It's possible."

"And that makes it even more dangerous."

**

* * *

**

Strathmore POV

I had no idea what Kara Quintana looked like, so in turn, I ended up looking like a fool.

Any time a woman exited the building, I called out, "Kara!"

The fourth time the front doors opened, a group of six women came out. I gave my standard shout, and a woman turned to look at me, her hand half-raised as though she was going to wave until she realized that she didn't know me.

I approached her as she squinted at me in an effort to reconcile my face with her memory.

But I was ten years older, and she had probably only seen a random photo or two on Heidi's desk.

"I'm sorry, have we met?" she asked me when I came to a stop in front of her.

She was a lovely woman, smartly dressed and very well put-together. And it was my good fortune that her manners were too good to allow her to just ignore me.

"No, I don't think so," I told her. "But I guess you remember my name. John Strathmore."

I held out my hand to her and kept my eyes on her face as she struggled to maintain her composure.

"You were trying to get in to see me today," she said when she recovered. "I apologize, but I'm heading for a meeting off-site."

"It looks to me like you're going to lunch," I replied, nodding toward the group of women who were standing off to the side, presumably waiting for her.

"I…just…"

"Kara, I need to ask you a few questions about Heidi."

"I don't know anything."

Her immediate denial sparked my interest. How did she even know what I was going to ask?

"It'll only take a minute. Let me buy you lunch."

"That's not really a good idea…I…I just…"

"Kara, please."

To my surprise, she relented. She said goodbye to her friends and then together we walked down the sidewalk.

"I don't know how I can help you," she said quietly.

"You were friends with Heidi. I'm just trying to get a little more information."

"She's been dead for ten years. You need to let it go."

"I can't. Her murder is still unsolved, only now they're trying to pin it on a drug dealer."

"What?" she asked sharply, and her face went ashen. "A drug dealer?"

"Yeah," I said with a slow nod. "Why? Did she…was she at all involved with…"

"No, Heidi would never do drugs," she responded.

"Did she know any people like that?"

"Not that I know of."

"I understand that you and Heidi had a falling out about a year before she died. Can you tell me what that was about?"

"No."

"No?"

"I mean, it was just petty girl stuff, you know? And…"

To my shock, her eyes filled with tears and she couldn't seem to finish her sentence.

"Kara, I'm sorry," I said, immediately feeling terrible for reopening an old wound.

"It's okay, I just…haven't really ever talked about it, and…it's hard, you know? What am I saying? Of _course_ you know," she sniffled.

We stopped walking and eased over to stand next to a building and then I pulled out my handkerchief and handed it to her.

"It's just that…I thought that we'd make up, you know? I didn't realize that we wouldn't have _time_ to make up…"

I watched as she burst into a fresh round of tears.

Ever the gentleman, I wrapped my arms around her to offer her a comforting hug. She sagged against me and cried for another minute, and then looked up at me.

"Thank you for being so understanding, John. I'm so…I just…"

And the next thing I knew, she was kissing me.

She snaked her hands around the back of my head and latched her lips against mine.

It took me a moment to pull away from her, my astonishment causing a lag time in my reaction.

"Kara," I began, shaking my head.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "That was so inappropriate of me. You're just being so nice to me, and everything that I had with Heidi is so close to the surface, and…"

"It's okay," I told her, but it wasn't.

What the hell was going on?

First she refuses to meet with me, getting her receptionist to lie for her, and then she's _kissing_ me?

"John, I…well, you know what?" she began as though she'd suddenly made up her mind about something. "It's been a long time, and I guess it's okay to tell you."

"Tell me what?" I asked in frustration.

"You want to know about Heidi? Well, we were lovers."

TBC...


	19. Chapter 19

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Despite my strong suspicion that Heidi's murder had possibly been recorded, I wasn't deluded enough to think that we'd ever get our hands on a copy of it.

If it even still existed.

But if they'd been using her as an informant or as part of an undercover, then I wanted to know about it.

I _needed_ to know about it.

That could make a huge difference in the interpretation of all of this information that we were digging up.

And it would mean that Heidi had been killed while acting heroically as opposed to being gunned down in a cloud of scandal like Detective Rollins was proposing.

"How do you want to play this?" Alex asked me as she found a parking spot near the field office.

"We'll just be straight," I answered. "And read their reaction. It's the best we can do."

"You think that they'll even agree to talk to us?"

"Probably. If we're right, they'll clam up. And if we're wrong, then they shouldn't even have a file on her, right?"

"Presumably. Who knows what the FBI does?" she said with a shrug.

_Wasn't that the truth_, I thought.

We got out of the car and together we headed for the front entrance.

"If the feds don't want to talk, maybe we should give Carolyn a call," I suggested. "She still knows people."

We left our weapons at the front desk and cleared security. They gave us visitor's passes and then asked us to wait while they found an available agent.

"Twenty bucks says it's a short-timer with one foot out the door," Alex muttered.

"You want to bet money this time? Come on," I teased. "Settling up that last bet was so much more fun than passing a Jackson back and forth."

She chuckled at me, and then nodded encouragingly.

"I'm game," she replied. "What are the stakes?"

"If it's a rookie, then we go home as certified members of the mile high club whether anyone else is on that plane with us or not," I answered.

"What? You're crazy!"

"The bathroom is big enough," I added with a grin.

"What do I get if I win?"

"That _is_ what you get."

"Bobby…"

I leaned over and whispered in her ear.

"I'll give you anything you want."

"You do that anyway," she replied smugly.

"You don't have to decide right now," I stated. "You win, it's up to you. I win, it's the plane."

"Deal," she said.

And the words were no sooner out of her mouth when a kid stepped off the elevator and approached us.

And I say kid because that's what he looked like. If I'd seen him on the street, I would've pegged him for fifteen, and the slightly too large dark blue suit only made him look even more like a little boy dressing up in his father's clothes.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," Alex mumbled.

"Are you the investigators?" he asked as he stopped in front of us.

"Yes," I answered, unable to keep from smiling. "I'm Bobby Goren, and this is my partner, Alex Goren."

"Agent Landon," he offered as he shook my hand. "Come on back to my office."

"Don't you have to graduate college before you can get into the Bureau?" Alex whispered as we followed the young man down the hall and back to the elevator.

"Maybe he's a child prodigy," I replied.

"I'm twenty-seven," he told us as he pushed the button.

"I'm sorry," Alex said immediately. "I didn't mean to be rude."

"Oh, it's fine. I get that a lot."

Agent Landon was congenial, and showed us into his office.

"So, what can I do for you?" he asked us.

"We need some information related to an arrest made by the Bureau in 1999," Alex began.

"Sure thing," he told us as he began typing. "I'm assuming here in Denver?"

"Yes."

I glanced at Alex and raised my eyebrow. She shrugged imperceptibly and then turned back toward the agent.

This was possibly too good to be true.

"What's the name of the arrested individual?"

"Heidi Elizabeth Casper," I said.

He typed for another minute, and then paused. I watched him as his eyes scanned over his monitor and his face went blank.

"I'm sorry. It doesn't look like there is any such arrest record."

"Really," Alex said in disbelief. "Because it looks like maybe you're reading over an arrest record right now."

He hit another button on his keyboard and then sat back.

"No, I was um…just making sure that I had um…input the name correctly."

"So you have no record of her."

"No ma'am."

"Is it possible that it's listed in another database?" I suggested. "Because the arrest was eventually removed from her record."

"I'm certain that we have no documentation on the name that you gave me," he said, and then he got up from his chair. "I'm sorry that I can't be of any help to your investigation."

Ten minutes later, we were back at the car.

"That was a big waste of time," Alex remarked as she got behind the wheel.

"No. We're not wrong about this," I insisted. "He stared at that screen for too long."

"So?" she asked as she pulled onto the street. "Back to the boiler room?"

"Yeah. And I'll call Carolyn."

By the time we arrived at the police station, Carolyn had called her contact and called me back.

"You're on the right track. The Bureau did make that arrest," she confirmed. "But there's more to it. A lot more. My guy is looking into it, but he has to be careful. It might take a little longer, but as soon as I hear from him, I'll call you back, okay?"

"Great. So what kind of thing would they be trying to cover up? A botched sting?"

"I wouldn't put anything past the FBI."

**

* * *

**

Lupo POV

Testarossa was a complete jackass.

"More bumbling boys in blue," he remarked when Bernard and I entered the room. "Why is it that you guys are always having to come to me for answers?"

"Maybe because you're behind every lowdown and common thing that happens around this place," I answered.

Bernard took a seat across from Testarossa, but I stayed standing near the door.

"Okay. I know this scene. You're the good cop," he said as he pointed at Bernard. Then he looked at me and added, "And you're the bad cop."

"And you're the fucking genius," I said. "Now what was going on with Stoat?"

"Mike Stoat?" he questioned.

"Johnny," Bernard said lightly. "Playing dumb isn't going to help you."

"I don't think he's playing, Bernard. I think he's just that dumb."

"Yeah, well fuck you. If you want me to talk, you're going about it the wrong way."

"What's the right way? You want me to bring Candi in here to blow your whistle? Will that get you talking?"

"Colorful, Detective," he said with a shake of his head. "No, I don't need that little flatbacker for anything. _She _came to _me_. Not the other way around."

"You just took advantage of the opportunity," Bernard added in understanding. "She wanted something from you, so she needed to offer some form of payment. I get it."

"Do you?"

"Sure. She got you to swap out phones for Stoat."

"Maybe."

"So here's my question," I said. "How did you get to Stoat when he's in isolation?"

"Get to Stoat," he stated carefully.

"Oh, you want clarification?" I continued. "You want to know if I'm asking how you managed to slip him a cell phone….or if I'm asking how you managed to kill him. Um…either, really," I told him.

"I didn't kill him," he replied firmly. "And as for the phone, well…there's more leeway for isolation prisoners than one might expect. They do have to shower some time."

"Oh, so you met him in the showers," I said with a knowing nod. "Getting into the swing of…prison life, are you?"

"I gave him a phone," he said sharply. "That's it."

"And then he gave you one which you traded with Candi for another phone."

"Right."

"What did you get out of the deal? Besides the obvious."

"Nothing."

"You did it out of the goodness of your heart."

"That's right."

"What about April Lieszak?" I asked suddenly, hoping to catch him off-guard.

"What about her?"

"She and Candi are in cahoots about something."

"Really?" he asked, and I didn't think that his surprise was spurious.

"Really."

"Like what?"

"You tell us," Bernard said. "What do you know about Detective Goren?"

Testarossa furrowed his brows and looked from me to Bernard.

"The guy who threw Stoat under the bus?"

"Yeah," I said.

My mind was scrambling to catch up with the facts. Testarossa didn't know about April's involvement. He didn't know about the hit. Was he honestly nothing more than a middle man?

"Not much. I mean, yeah he fucked me good. And if I saw him again, I'd probably kill him. But…other than that, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"So who killed Stoat?"

"Oh, I know that one," Testarossa said with a grin. "_Stoat_."

"Try again, Johnny," Bernard replied, shaking his head. "The ME is calling it murder."

"Then maybe you need a new ME."

"Cut the crap," I yelled as I approached the table. "Stoat was in the middle of something big. You and I both know that he wouldn't kill himself before he was done."

"Oh, he was done alright."

Bernard and I looked at each other briefly and then we both turned back to Testarossa.

"How do you know?"

"Stoat wasn't the only one with sources on the outside. I've got a few of my own."

"Then who was going to do it?"

"You don't get it," he said. "It's already _done_."

"What's done?" I shouted, frustrated with his ambiguity.

"The money! They stole twenty grand from me!"

We left the interview room and headed back for 1PP where we gave Ross an update.

"So Stoat conspired to rip off Testarossa. Why?"

"We think he needed the money to pay for the hit," I told him. "His accounts have been frozen, and Candi doesn't have any money…they must not have been able to find anyone willing to do it for free."

"Times are tight," Bernard remarked with a shrug.

"And the partial print from the door is from a government employee. Anyone with that kind of training wouldn't come cheap," I said.

"So the twenty grand was for the hit," Ross stated.

He had an interesting and slightly annoying way of restating the obvious. I guess it was how he wrapped his mind around something, but it made him come across as a little bit slow.

"That's right, Cap," Bernard said. "Except that Candi only had ten."

"You think the down payment has been made?"

I nodded affirmation while I wandered around the room.

"How does April factor into this?"

"I think that she helped Candi steal the money. Stoat must have had an idea for how to rip off the club. Candi enlisted April to help."

"That would explain why Candi was in fear for her life," Bernard said. "When she heard that Stoat was dead, she had to know that Testarossa was behind it. She probably figured that she was next."

"Right," I agreed.

"So how does any of this help us find the assassin?"

"We need to go at Candi again," I said. "If she's made the down payment, then she knows who he is."

"What about the BOLO you issued? Any hits?"

"Nothing."

"Do you have any contacts who might be able to override the whitewash?" Ross asked me.

"Maybe," I agreed slowly. "I'll make some calls."

"Okay. Take another run at Candi. Hand off the Stoat murder to Wheeler. I want you two focused on the hit."

We left Ross' office and brought Wheeler up to speed on the murder case. Then we tried to set up a meeting with Candi.

"We need some information. It'll be to her benefit to cooperate," I said.

"She's not talking," her attorney told us.

And then she promptly ended the conversation.

**

* * *

**

Strathmore POV

I left Trenton in a funk.

Heidi was…what? Bi-sexual? And she'd been cheating on me?

I was beginning to wonder if I'd known her at all.

Kara told me that the two of them had been lovers for nearly a year before they broke it off.

_Kara_ had broken it off.

Because Heidi wouldn't leave me.

Apparently, she didn't want to miss out on getting my money.

"_She loved you, but….well, she promised me that after you guys had been married for a few years, then things would be different,_" Kara had said. "_Then she'd either talk to you about bringing me into the relationship, or she'd leave you altogether…" _

After we'd been married a few years? But Heidi was the one who had insisted that we wait longer to get married. If she'd only wanted my money, wouldn't she have jumped on the chance when I offered it?

"_Why did you kiss me?"_ I'd asked her.

It was a non-sequitur but I needed to know. Her coming on to me didn't make any sense.

"_Like I said, Heidi loved you. And I miss her. I wanted to…I don't know. Feel closer to her,"_ she'd answered as she ran her hand across my chest. "_I thought that maybe we had some kind of connection because of her."_

I'd left Kara on the sidewalk at that point, unable to handle her advances. I'd walked away and called for Rocco, who had apparently ignored my suggestion of getting lunch and was instead lurking nearby.

I got in the car, leaned my head against the seat and closed my eyes.

Maybe this investigation had been a bad idea.

I was ignoring my business. I was drinking way too much. I was fantasizing about an unavailable friend.

And all for what? To find out that Heidi had maintained a secret life? One that involved an affair and possibly drugs and lord only knew what else?

But a lingering question remained.

If Kara didn't want to see me, then why was she unexpectedly so forthcoming with information?

And if she and Heidi had been apart for a year, why would she suddenly have a breakdown ten years after her death?

And then get over it so quickly?

Something was off about her.

I tried calling Bobby, but it went straight to voice mail.

I was a little bit afraid to call Alex.

Stupid, I know. And juvenile. But I was still afraid.

So instead, I called a guy I knew who was with the Atlantic City PD.

"P.J.," I greeted him. "How the hell are you?"

"I'm good, John. I haven't seen you around in the last couple of weeks."

"I've had a lot of personal stuff going on," I explained.

"Isn't that the whole point of the meetings?" he asked me.

Grief counseling sessions.

I hadn't been to one since that first day when I met Alex and Bobby.

"Different kind of personal," I told him. "Hey, I need a favor. Can you check a name for me?"

"You mean, pull a sheet? Contrary to popular opinion, the police department is not on the payroll of the millionaires in this city."

"I know. And I wouldn't ask, but it might be kind of important."

"Are you going to fill me in?"

"I can't right now. But soon, okay?"

"You come to the meeting tonight," he bartered.

"Next Wednesday," I countered. "I'm telling you, I'm right smack in the middle of something."

"Give me the name. I'll look, but I'm not promising to tell you anything."

"Kara Quintana," I said, spelling it out for him.

I waited while he searched his database, my stomach twisting into knots.

Did she have a record?

And what made me think that she might?

Because her affect was all wrong. She was all over the map, and none if it seemed real.

She was hiding something.

_Or maybe I'd just been spending too much time with private investigators lately_.

I seemed to think that I could somehow gain some of their skills through osmosis.

"Did you have something you wanted to ask me?" PJ said.

He liked to play the yes or no game. He was of the opinion that answering questions was not the same as providing someone with information.

That was fine with me. I hadn't asked him for any favors in awhile, but I still knew how to do it.

"Has she ever been arrested?"

"Yes."

"Recently?"

"No."

"Did she do time?"

"No."

"Was the arrest in New Jersey?"

"No."

"New York?"

"No. Come on, man, I can't stay on the phone all day."

"Denver," I stated, the hunch hitting me suddenly.

"Yes."

What was going on with these Caduceus people in Denver?

"Drugs?"

"Yes."

"Shit," I muttered.

Kara had tried to act so innocent when I'd asked her if Heidi had been into drugs. I guess I should've asked her if _she_ was into them.

"1997," PJ supplied quickly without me having asked the question. "I've got to go."

"Thanks, man. I owe you."

"Next Wednesday. I'll see you there."

I hung up with PJ and tried to make sense of everything.

Could it be a coincidence that Kara was arrested for drugs in the same city where Heidi had been killed, supposedly because of drugs?

"Are we going to Manhattan or Atlantic City?" Rocco asked me.

"Where's my plane?"

"It just got back to AC."

"Call ahead and get it ready. I'm going to Denver."

TBC...


	20. Chapter 20

**Alex POV**

* * *

We spent the afternoon sweating our asses off while getting nowhere.

By the time five o'clock rolled around, it felt like we'd been in Denver for weeks.

And that I'd been wearing the same clothes the entire time.

"So, dinner?" Keyes asked when he stuck his head through the doorway of what I was now affectionately calling _hell_.

"Some place with air conditioning," I agreed after getting silent confirmation from Bobby.

"It's snowing," Keyes said on a laugh. "I don't think we'll have much trouble getting you cooled off. I'll meet you out front in about…twenty minutes?"

"Sounds good," Bobby said.

"I would've never guessed that I'd get too hot in Denver in February," I muttered to Bobby as I gathered our things. "Do you think Rollins manipulated the furnace on purpose?"

"You mean that he's hoping we won't be able to think as well when we're hot?"

"Something like that," I groused.

The heat had put me in a foul mood, and the lack of evidence wasn't helping.

Carolyn's contact had met a brick wall. He was still working on it, but he was doubtful.

"Which means that you're knocking on the door of something big," Carolyn had warned. "Keep your eyes and ears open."

And Liz had told us about her showdown with Dr. Stern.

"You can bet your ass that I'll get that body exhumed," she'd told me firmly. "Tomorrow morning."

Then she'd gone on to offer up a few suggestions of things that I might want to say to Dr. Stern if I had the opportunity to meet him in person.

I didn't need anyone's help verbally abusing people. I was quite adept at it myself.

But she'd had me laughing with her creativity.

So anyway, so far we had loose ends everywhere.

We had an arrest that wasn't.

For _drugs_, which didn't help John's case at all.

We had a stonewalling FBI, which screamed cover-up.

A sabotaging detective combined with an over-accommodating one. My radar was up on both of them.

An uncooperative ME, who may or may not have missed crucial evidence which meant that we were left with having to examine a ten-year-old corpse.

And don't get me wrong. Liz was the best. If there was something to be found, she'd find it.

But ten years was a long damn time for a body to be in the ground.

Rollins had stalled us on the sit-down with Valero, but he promised tomorrow. I wasn't going to hold my breath.

Besides, what would he say? The party line or the truth?

"Hey, take a look at this picture," Bobby said to me as he was shoving the last of the photographs into the box.

He handed me a photo, and then stood back and waited.

I'd looked at it a dozen times already. We both had. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be seeing, but I looked again anyway.

Sidewalk. Blood. Dead grass. Chalk outline.

And then it hit me.

"Where is the brain matter?" I asked aloud, bringing my eyes from the photo up to meet Bobby's.

He was nodding and had a half smile on his face.

Because as disgusting as it was to consider, Heidi was shot in the head.

Twice.

And all we could see on the sidewalk was blood. There should've been gray matter everywhere.

"Not the real crime scene photos?" I asked. "Or the crime didn't happen like they say?"

"I don't know," he replied thoughtfully. "But I think that we're definitely on to something."

We packed up all of the evidence and brought it with us, partly because we were afraid that if we left it someone would steal it from us and partly because we might want to look over everything again once we got to a hotel.

Keyes was waiting for us in front of the building, standing in the lightly falling snow.

"You guys like pizza?" he asked cheerfully. He was starting to annoy me with his over the top exuberance.

"Who doesn't?" I replied.

"I'm going to take you to the best pizza place in town," he said. "And there's a Holiday Inn right next door to it."

So we followed him across West Colfax to Wadsworth, and then several miles south to a place called Old Chicago.

"Old _Chicago_?" I remarked skeptically. "The best pizza in Denver?"

"I don't care what it's called," Bobby replied. "I'm starving. Let's have a pizza and some beer and then ditch Mr. Happy and check into a room."

"You read my mind."

Bobby stopped to check his phone when we got out of the car.

"John," he told me. "He's coming out."

"Here?" I asked. "Why?"

"I don't know. Maybe he wants to be involved," he guessed with a shrug.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," I said. "I don't want to have to censor what we say. I mean, what if he'd been in the room when we realized that the brain matter was missing from the photo?"

"I'm with you," he said. "But he's already on the plane. He wants to know where we're staying."

I sighed heavily. _As if the case wasn't difficult enough_.

"What's this cross-street?" Bobby called out to Keyes, who was waiting by the restaurant door.

"Hampden."

"I'll reply to his text and tell him where we are," he said to me. "But tomorrow, we'll encourage him to stay on the sidelines, okay? I don't know what else to say."

"Okay."

Dinner turned out okay.

Actually, the food was pretty damn good. And maybe it was because we were both starving, I don't know, but I was definitely going to come back here before we left Denver.

And Keyes was only marginally annoying.

"You know, I'm the one who caught that ballistics match," he told us. "I routinely run current reports through the cold case files to see if I can get any hits."

"Nice detective work," I replied, doing my best to hold back the sarcasm.

What did he want, a medal? For doing his job?

"Thanks," he said with a grin. "So have you found anything new yet?"

"We've…um…not really had enough time to get a feel for the crime," Bobby said dismissively.

"What about the note I gave you?"

"About the arrest?" I asked, suddenly turning the tables to pump him for information. "Where did you come across that? You weren't the original detective."

"No, but it was part of the file."

"Since when?"

"It was there in the beginning."

"How do you know that?"

"It was part of the evidence log."

"Then why wasn't it with the documents that we were given?"

"Rollins pulled out things that he felt were irrelevant," Keyes stated. "I think he's a little bitter about the notion of investigators checking his work."

"We're not checking his work," I remarked. "We're trying to solve a cold case. And how…"

"It's understandable," Bobby said, cutting off my sentence.

He tapped me with his foot under the table as he did so, his way of apologizing for interrupting while letting me know that he thought we shouldn't discuss the details.

"I can see where it might be insulting," Bobby said in a congenial tone. "I mean, we used to be detectives. I don't think I'd be too crazy about it if an outsider suddenly wanted to go through my old cases."

"Exactly," Keyes agreed. "He's not a bad cop. He's just in defensive mode right now."

"Well, we appreciate you giving us the heads-up," I told him.

We finished up dinner with idle chit-chat.

Keyes tossed out the occasional question about the investigation, but we steered clear of it. Instead, we made short work of the pizza and said our goodbyes.

"We're going to check in next door," Bobby said as he picked up the check.

"No, hey, it's on me," Keyes insisted as he held out his hand for the bill.

"That's not necessary," I told him.

"You can get it next time," he offered, flashing us a smile.

_Next time,_ I thought derisively. I didn't plan on there being a next time. I didn't trust the man any further than I could throw him.

So we left him in the restaurant and went across the parking lot to the car.

"What do you think of him?" Bobby asked me as we got into the car.

"He's a weasel," I replied. "He's making nice with outsiders at the expense of his own partner. Who does that?"

"He's in this for something. A promotion?"

"You think that he wants us to solve this so that he can look good?" I asked. "Yeah, maybe."

"I don't trust him," he stated simply, an echo of my earlier thought.

"Is that why you didn't want to talk about the case in front of him?"

"Uh huh," he replied thoughtfully. "There's more to him than just not backing up his partner. He definitely has an ulterior motive."

I drove the car to the next parking lot over, and then turned off the engine and looked at Bobby while he finished his train of thought.

"I mean, how could anyone possibly think that a prior drug arrest was irrelevant in a case that is surrounded in drug dealers? And Keyes acted like that was a viable explanation."

"So did Rollins really say that? Or is there another reason why that document was missing from the file?"

"Like what?" he asked.

"Like maybe Keyes took it. And then gave it to us so that we would see him as a good guy."

"He certainly wanted to keep up with us," he remarked with a nod. "You think he's involved somehow?"

"With Heidi's death? I don't see how."

"Yeah, I don't either," he agreed. "But between the careless autopsy, the inconsistency in the crime scene photo, and the floating arrest documentation…this is more than just a haphazard designation of a murder."

"I think we've got our work cut out for us."

"Let's get our room. We probably don't have too long before John gets here, and I'm sure that he'll want an update."

"How much are we going to tell him?"

"As little as we can get away with," Bobby replied. I started to get out of the car, but Bobby stopped me with a hand on my arm. "Let's check in with Lupo first."

So he called Detective Lupo and put him on speaker.

"Where are we?" Bobby asked him.

"One giant circle-jerk," he replied. "Rodgers says that Stoat's death is a murder, and we think Testarossa did it. Or at least, made the arrangements. Wheeler is looking into that aspect. But we found out where the money came from."

"We're all ears," I said.

"Testarossa. Candi and Stoat stole it from him. And that's the good news."

"What's the bad news?"

"They actually stole twenty grand. Half is missing."

"A down payment," I stated.

"That's the theory. Testarossa is clueless about a hit. Candi refused to speak with us. April is hiding behind her lawyer, too, although we think that her only contribution was to help Candi steal the money."

"What about the BOLO?"

"Nothing. But we got a hit on the partial."

"And?"

"Redacted information on a government employee."

"What?" I asked in surprise. "So maybe Rensini wasn't so far off when he called the guy a spook."

"Any reason why the CIA would want to talk to you?" Lupo asked us. "Secret Service? Did either of you apply for any type of security clearance recently, or do you know anyone who is trying to get a federal job?"

"No," we answered together.

"Well, until I find out more, watch your backs, okay?"

"Always," Bobby said.

"How's the case out there coming along?"

"Slowly. The FBI is covering their ass about something," I told him.

"For once, I'm grateful for the Bureau's red tape," he admitted. "The longer you two stay out there, the safer you are. At least until I can track down the rest of that money."

"Keep us posted, okay?"

"Will do."

We hung up and then looked at each other.

"Candi stole money from Testarossa? You think it was simply for the purpose of funding the hit?"

"That would be my guess," I agreed. "And if Stoat was murdered, then that takes care of the question of why he'd commit suicide while planning a hit."

"Can you think of any legitimate reason why a government employee would be knocking on our door?" he asked me.

"And checking the knob when we didn't answer? No. My guess is that someone's gone rogue."

"For twenty grand?"

I didn't have an answer. It was cheap as far as hits went, but maybe Stoat and Candi had planned to steal more money. Maybe that was just the first take. Maybe the down payment wasn't half, but rather just a show of good faith.

There were too many questions without enough answers.

"Let's go inside," I told him.

So we got out of the car and went into the lobby.

After securing a room from the front desk clerk, we went down a hall to get onto the elevator, but there was a sign posted stating that it was out of order.

"Great," I muttered. "And we're on what floor?"

"Fifth," Bobby answered.

As we went around the corner to the stairwell, and he reached to open the door, I got a weird feeling.

Every nerve ending was suddenly on alert.

"Bobby, wait," I said softly as I set my bag down on the floor and drew my weapon.

"What is it?" he asked as he followed my lead and pulled out his gun as well.

"I'm not sure," I whispered with a shake of my head.

I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was _some_thing.

Once we were both ready, Bobby grabbed onto the handle of the stairwell door and then whipped it open.

Turned out my instincts were still dead on.

Inside the stairwell was a woman.

And she was pointing a gun at us.

TBC...

**A/N: Big thank you to Mitzvahgirl for keeping this thing rolling along by posting for me yesterday while I was indisposed. And more thanks to her for still cracking the whip. And for providing a sounding board. And for offering ideas. And for proofing. And for the encouragement. And...well, you get the idea. THANK YOU.**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: I stole another show's character for this story. If you watch it, you'll recognize it right away. If you don't, I don't think it'll matter. Hopefully either way it'll still be good!**

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Alex stopped me just before I opened the door, and I instantly shifted my mind to business.

In all honesty, in the moment before I had been debating whether or not we would have time for a shower before John's inevitable arrival, but the second I felt her hand on my arm and saw the seriousness on her face, well…all thoughts of everything else disappeared, and I focused completely on finding out what _or who_ was on the other side of that door.

And who did we find?

A woman with a gun. Just about the last thing that I'd expected.

I mean, we were in Denver, two thousand miles away from home. We hadn't made any purchases on our personal accounts on the off-chance that the assassin was smart enough to track us in that manner.

Only a few select people knew that we were even in this city.

And there were fewer still who knew that we were checking into this particular hotel.

Us.

Keyes.

John.

That was about it.

"Whoa! Hey, there's no need for that!" the woman shouted as Alex and I both leveled our weapons at her.

She was standing along the far wall inside of the stairwell. I gave her a quick once-over, but didn't recognize her.

Blonde hair, blue jeans, black leather jacket. Not your average, every day hit man.

"Put down your gun!" Alex shouted firmly

"That's not how this is going to work," the woman replied calmly. "Now, why don't you two come all the way into the stairwell and we'll all put our guns down and talk rationally."

"I don't think so," I said. "What are you doing in here? Waiting for us?"

"Yes."

"How did you know that we'd be here?"

"Because I'm good at my job."

"A competent assassin," Alex remarked. "How refreshing."

"Assassin? I'm not an assassin," she said with a confused look on her face. "Just wait a second. I'm going to reach for my badge."

So we waited, carefully and cautiously, while the woman kept her eyes on us as she reached blindly with her left hand into her jacket pocket. With her right hand, she kept her Glock pointed at me.

At _me_.

So maybe she _wasn't_ the assassin.

"I'm Inspector Shannon with the U.S. Marshal Service," she told us when she finally held up her badge.

"U.S. Marshals?" Alex asked. "What the hell is going on?"

"Well, right now I'd say that you two are in violation of any number of federal statutes, not the least of which being that you are pointing your weapons at an inspector. So how about we all take a moment to breathe and think about how we want this scenario to go."

I glanced at Alex quickly and then approached the inspector so that I could get a closer look at her badge.

Once comfortable with its authenticity, I lowered my gun and Alex did the same.

"You're here looking for us?" I asked her.

"You're the Gorens, right?" she asked as she tucked her Glock back into its holster.

"Yes," Alex answered.

"Then yes," she replied firmly. "What are you two doing in Denver?"

"Is that a federal crime?"

"That depends on what you're doing here."

"Conducting business," Alex said, stepping up closer to the inspector.

The two of them had taken up an adversarial position, and I was almost more afraid now than I was when we'd all had our guns out.

"What kind of business? This is a case that your private investigating firm was contracted to solve?"

"It sounds like you already know the answer."

"I know what kind of business you have," she confirmed. "And I think I know what case brought you out here. But I'd like for you to tell me."

"Show and tell goes both ways."

"Not in my line of work."

"Fine," Alex said with a shrug. "Then arrest us. For…what was it exactly?" she asked me facetiously. "Oh yeah, pointing our weapons at an inspector. Arrest us for that, or get out of our way."

"I'm not arresting you for anything," the inspector said in annoyance. "But we do need to talk."

I only vaguely listened to the verbal sparring match that ensued. Instead, I analyzed our current situation.

The U.S. Marshal Service was interested in our case?

That seriously narrowed down the parameters on what we could potentially be dealing with because U.S. Marshals only investigated very specific types of crimes.

And apprehending fugitives was a big part of their job description.

_What the hell had Heidi gotten herself into_?

"Did you check into a room?" the inspector asked sharply, breaking through my thought process.

She was clearly getting frustrated with Alex's lack of obedience.

"Yes."

"Let's go up there and talk," she stated. And then she plastered on a fake and yet somehow charming smile and added, "Please."

I waited for Alex to decide, but when she gave a nod, I went out into the hall and grabbed our bags and then the three of us went up to the fifth floor.

"Are you always this difficult with fellow law enforcement officers?"

"I'm not law enforcement," Alex retorted.

"You were with the NYPD for seventeen years until you turned in your notice two months ago," the inspector spouted off quickly. "You're law enforcement."

"You checked us out?"

"Of course I did. What kind of inspector would I be if I hadn't?"

"I don't know what kind of inspector you are."

"I'm the kind who got a call six hours ago that you two were snooping around the field office looking into a case, and now suddenly I've tracked you down to your hotel _and _got the drop on you in the stairwell," she remarked. "So I guess that makes me a pretty damn good one."

"You didn't get the drop on us," Alex argued, although I could tell that she'd gone from really irritated to slightly amused. "We had you."

"Oh, I definitely had you."

I bit back a smile as I opened the door onto the fifth floor.

This was going to be an interesting night.

"Okay," the inspector said once we were in the room with the door closed. "I'll stop playing the I'm-better-than-you card if you two start cooperating. I'll trade you, one for one. Deal?"

"Deal," Alex said.

"What brought you to Denver?"

"We're working on a ten-year-old murder case. Why did the FBI call you to tell you about our visit?"

"Because I have a stake in the case. Who hired you? John Strathmore?"

Alex and I looked at each other quickly and then back at the inspector.

"Yes. The FBI told us that they have no record of our victim," I stated. "Clearly that was a lie or you wouldn't be here. What are they hiding?"

"The FBI? Too much for me to go into tonight," she said on a laugh. "But specifically about your case? The FBI fucked up."

"And you're covering it up?"

"Okay, first of all, no. That's not in my job description. Secondly, that was two questions," she said. "So, what did you find out in New York that made you come to Denver?"

"We found out that the victim wasn't who her fiancé thought. She'd been lying to him and lying to her employer."

"About her past?"

"Yes."

"Why did you think that I was an assassin?"

I wasn't sure what to think about the fact that she was being so conversational with us.

If she'd wanted to throw her weight around, she could've marched us over to our car and confiscated all of the evidence. She could've told the Denver PD to kick us out on our asses, and insisted that no one else cooperate with us.

It would've been the wrong thing to do, but she could've done it. The Marshal Service had that kind of clout.

Instead, she was curious as to why we'd been suspicious of her.

Alex looked over at me again, and I shrugged. It's not like it was a secret.

"It's possible that there's a hit on my head," Alex told her.

"Really. People still do that?"

"I think you know that they do," I said pointedly.

"And why is that?"

My response was interrupted by my cell phone. I pulled it out and checked the text.

_**Just got a room. Meet me in the hotel bar.**_

"John's here," I said, looking at Alex. "He wants to meet in the bar."

"John Strathmore?" the inspector asked hopefully. At my nod, she said, "Good. I could use a drink. Let's go."

So we left the room and went back to the stairwell.

"It's Mary, by the way. It might be better if you just call me that in front of John."

"Are you going to tell us what happened to Heidi?" Alex asked her.

This was the first mention of our victim's name, and I had to give Mary points for not playing dumb, even if she didn't give us the answer that we wanted to hear.

"I don't…think so, no. I'd like to. I'd really like to. But I'm also not going to ask you to end your investigation."

"How does that work?" I asked her. "You think we won't find the answers on our own?"

"Oh, I think you would. That's why my partner went to New York to talk to you guys on Monday. You were already hitting the highlights of the victim and you'd only been on the case for a day. So we were pretty sure that you'd figure it out."

"Your partner came to New York…to our apartment?" I asked her sharply.

"Well, yeah," she answered with a shrug. "He was supposed to ask you guys to let the investigation go."

The government guy. It was a U.S. Marshal instead of a hit man.

Were we getting paranoid?

"We need to call Lupo," Alex said quietly, and then she whirled on Mary. "You know, all you had to do was call. That would've been the right thing to do. _Hey, Alex, can you drop this investigation please? We're trying to cover our asses and you're getting too close to the truth_."

"Would you have stopped?"

"Hell no."

"That's why we didn't call. We thought a little person to person time would be better. Marshall couldn't catch up with you guys, and then Agent Landon called me earlier today so I flew in."

"How did you know that we'd be _here?_" I asked her. "You couldn't have known which hotel."

"We're…well, that's part of what I'm going to ask you to do. I don't want you to give up your investigation. But I want you to maybe _shift the focus_ of your investigation."

"We were hired to solve the murder of Heidi Casper," I stated firmly. "And it's not just a random client. He's…"

"I know who he is. He's the half-brother of your friend and business partner, who happens to currently be sunning himself in Brazil with his new wife who is also your business partner. Believe me, I know more than I ever wanted to know about the two of you and most of it is none of my business so if we can just get through this case, then we can forget we ever met."

"You're skipping the point," Alex said as we finally left the stairwell. "We were hired to solve Heidi's murder."

"I'll get back to that. Introduce me to Strathmore."

My head was reeling as I blindly followed Alex and Mary through the lobby and into the hotel bar. I watched John as his eyes settled first on Alex, then me, then Mary.

Whatever thoughts I had about the longevity of his gaze on my wife were erased by the feeling of betrayal that ran through me when he looked upon Mary with confusion.

"John Strathmore," he said as he stood up and offered his hand. He was always the gentleman, and even though I could tell that he didn't like the addition of another party, he was willing to hear us out.

"Mary Shannon," she replied ambiguously.

"John, Mary is a government agent who's been sharing some information with us on Heidi's case," Alex explained.

"A government agent? The FBI?" he asked.

"Can we get a drink first?" Mary asked.

The four of us sat down at a table and placed an order. No one spoke until the drinks had been served.

"John, what's going on?" Alex asked him. "Why did you come to Denver?"

"I…" he began, looking hesitantly at Mary. And then I guess he decided that if we thought she was okay, then she was okay because he continued, "I went to Caduceus and talked with one of Heidi's old colleagues."

"What did you find out?" I asked, because it was obviously something big if he'd just flown halfway across the country.

"It was a woman. Kara Quintana. She told me that she and Heidi had been lovers."

"What?" Mary shouted out, nearly spitting out her drink.

"I'm sorry. Did you know Heidi?" John asked sharply.

"No. I'm sorry. That was…very unprofessional of me. You just completely caught me by surprise."

"She was saying that the two of them were together while you were with her?" Alex asked him encouragingly.

I eyed Mary closely, and had the growing feeling that I knew exactly what was going on.

I wondered how long it would be before John realized it too.

"That's what she said. But before that, she tried to kiss me. Well, not tried. She _did _kiss me. So, I don't know. I guess she likes men and women?"

"Or she was just trying to distract you," I suggested. "She's leading you down the wrong path so that you won't find the right one."

"What else?" Alex asked. "There's more."

"I…had a…friend do a check on her."

"You pulled her sheet?" Mary asked.

"Yeah, I did," he responded challengingly. "And she had a drug arrest from 1997. In Denver."

"You know who Kara Quintana is, don't you?" I asked Mary. "Her name has come up before."

"Yes."

"Was she involved in the same thing?" I asked, leaving off the words _as Heidi_.

"You know what?" Mary said, suddenly getting up from the table. "This is crazy. I need to make a call. Give me a minute."

She walked toward the lobby and put her cell to her ear.

"Who the hell is she?" John wanted to know.

"She's working on something," I replied vaguely. "Something bigger than just Heidi's murder, I think."

"Like what? A drug ring? Heidi was into drugs, wasn't she?"

"We're going to figure it out, John. I promise," Alex told him.

I signaled for another round as Mary came back to the table. I was pretty damn sure that I knew what she was going to say.

I caught Alex's gaze and I could read her mind.

She knew, too.

"Okay," Mary said as she sat down. "I don't normally do this. But this is a unique circumstance, and essentially nothing changes as a result of me providing you with this information, so I'm just going to say it quick and dirty. Like a band-aid, okay?"

She kept her eyes on John as she said the words, as did Alex and I both.

"Okay," he said slowly, as though he knew that his life was about to change.

And it was.

"Heidi wasn't murdered. She's alive. She's in the witness protection program."

TBC...


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: what the hell...it's Friday. Here's a bonus chapter :) **

**Strathmore POV**

* * *

I've heard the expressions.

Hit me with a ton of bricks.

Knock me over with a feather.

Buy me for a nickel.

They were all ways of expressing extreme and utter shock.

And none of them sufficiently described how I felt when Mary said the words.

"_Heidi wasn't murdered. She's alive. She's in the witness protection program."_

I knew that Alex and Bobby were both watching me closely. Something told me that they had guessed this possibility. Maybe only recently, but they'd guessed it nonetheless.

Me, I'd never considered it. Why would I?

"John?"

Alex had said something to me.

I forced my eyes to focus on hers.

Alex's eyes were a unique and lovely shade of light brown with a slight golden tint.

Heidi's had been blue. _Right_?

I suddenly had the panicked feeling that I hadn't known one damn thing about her, including her eye color.

"Uh huh?" I responded numbly.

"That's good news," Alex said.

"Is it?"

"She's alive," Mary repeated. "So yes, that's good news."

Of course it was.

How much of an ass could I be? The woman I'd loved was alive as opposed to dead and I was questioning whether or not that was a good thing?

"I know. I know, I'm sorry," I stammered. "I'm…just…."

"In shock. I know," Mary said. "It's hard to swallow."

"You know?" I asked loudly. "There is no way that you are going to sit there and tell me that you know one damn thing about the way that I'm feeling."

"John," Bobby said firmly. "Mary is here to help."

"No, she's here because for whatever reason Heidi's witness protection status is in danger. That's the only reason why she'd be here. I mean, you're her handler, right? You keep an eye on her, assess any potential threats, make sure that she provides testimony…is that what she had to do? Provide testimony?"

"We will talk about this," Mary replied calmly. "And I will tell you everything. But not until you've had a chance to absorb what I've just said."

"Oh, well, you want to wait for me to absorb it. Okay. You want to meet with me in what…say another ten years? I've been mourning her death for ten goddamn years!" I shouted.

The few other patrons in the bar looked in our direction, but I didn't care. This was just unbelievable.

"And you're going to tell me _everything_? _Really?_" I continued. "So, does that mean you're going to tell me where she is? And what she's been doing all of this time?"

"No, I can't tell you that."

"No," I replied derisively. "No, of course not."

"John, Mary isn't the bad guy here," Bobby said. "In fact, I'm guessing that she had to do some fast-talking to get the authorization to even tell you the news. You could've lived out the rest of your life thinking that she was dead. Now you know. She's alive. And _happy_."

"Is she? Happy?" I asked Mary. I suddenly, desperately needed to know.

"Yes."

I put my head in my hands in an effort to block out my new reality.

How could she be happy when I was so miserable? But considering that I loved her, shouldn't I be glad that she was happy, even if it was without me?

Yes.

_Pull it together, John_.

"Why did you tell us?" I asked quietly without looking up.

"You needed to know. And our sources tell us that there are guys looking for her now. If the bad guys know she's alive, then it doesn't really have to be a secret just as long as no one actually knows where she is."

"They know? How would they know? Is she safe?"

I finally pulled my gaze up to meet Mary's. Her eyes were full of sympathy and understanding.

"She is safe," she assured me earnestly. "But I'm not going to get into the whole story tonight, okay? Tomorrow morning, we can talk about the specifics."

"So there's more to this," Alex said. "You want us to keep up the investigation, but as a ruse to smoke out the leak, right?"

"You know, I think I like you," Mary told her with a grin.

"You think it's Keyes," Bobby said carefully. "That's how you knew that we were here. You've been keeping tabs on him."

"Right again. Wow, you two must solve every mystery that comes your way."

"Who's Keyes?" I spoke up. "And what does he have to do with this?"

"Tomorrow," she said firmly. "We've all had a long day, so let's call it a night and reconvene in the morning."

Bobby and Alex finished their drinks and then stood up to leave. Alex leaned down and gave me a hug and Bobby patted me on the shoulder. Neither said a word, though.

Because really, what would they say?

_Sorry that the woman you've been grieving is actually living happily somewhere else…_

I needed another drink.

"Are you going to stay down here? Because that's probably not a good idea."

I looked at Mary as she stood up from her chair.

"What the hell do you know about me?" I asked her bitterly. "You've seen me ten minutes. You drop a bombshell on me, and suddenly you're qualified to tell me what I should and shouldn't do?"

"You want to know what I know about you?"

"Yeah," I challenged.

She looked over to the bartender and signaled for another drink, and then sat back down in her chair.

"I see a man who's feeling sorry for himself. Your first response to the news was how _you_ felt about it rather than how _she_ was so is that true love? I don't know. Seems to me like true love would involve some kind of sense of self-sacrifice, but maybe that's just me."

"Is that all you've got?" I asked when she paused as her drink was served. "Come on, Mary," I antagonized. "Give it to me straight."

"You want straight?" she asked, rising to my bait.

She picked up her glass and tossed back the liquor and then slammed it down on the table.

"I'll give it to you straight. You want to sleep with your friend's wife. I was around the three of you for ten minutes and I figured it out, so if you think that _he_ doesn't know then you're crazy because he doesn't strike me as the dim-witted type, if you know what I mean. And you _do_ know what I mean because that's why you hired him. Sure, he's your brother's friend, but you also know that he's about the best damn detective there is, and combined with Alex, there's probably not much the two of them can't do.

"You know that, too, because that's part of why you're attracted to her. She's smart, and good-looking, and resourceful. But if you're honest with yourself, you know that you don't really want Alex. You want what they _have_. You think that you just need to find someone to replace Heidi, but that's never gonna happen because you've built her up in your mind to be this perfect person who she really wasn't. She was just a woman, and yes, she was the woman you loved, but she's not perfect and if you only keep looking for perfect women, you're going to spend the rest of your life alone.

"_And _if you keep eyeballing Alex like you want to throw her down on the nearest available hard surface, then you're not only going to be alone, but you're also going to be seriously maimed because I'm betting that Bobby is going to give you about one more day before he decides that your little crush has gone on long enough.

"So you need to face the facts and you need to pull your _head_ out of your _ass_ before you lose not only the _next_ ten years of your life, but a couple of good friends as well."

For some reason, I wasn't offended.

In fact, it was actually slightly liberating to hear it all out in the open. And everything she said was dead-on, so how upset could I be?

"Wow. You got all that?" I asked with a wry grin. She looked at me and shrugged.

"Yeah well I'm good at figuring out other people's fucked up lives. I just suck at my own," she replied.

She waved us over another round, and eyed me carefully while we waited.

"I thought you said it wasn't a good idea for me to sit down here and get drunk."

"It's probably not. But I figure that if I drink with you, then maybe it won't be so bad."

"Fair enough."

"Seriously, John," she said. "You want my advice?"

"You mean other than getting my head out of my ass?" I asked on a chuckle.

She laughed with me for a moment, but then reached across the table and put her hand over mine.

"Move on with your life."

"What if I don't want to?" I asked her. "What if I want to be with her? Can I join the program, too?"

"You could've," she said. She squeezed my hand and then let go as she sat back to pick up her fresh drink. "If she'd asked for you and you'd agreed, then yes. We take spouses or significant others into the program."

"But she didn't ask," I stated, already knowing the answer.

"No."

It was like a knife in my heart, but a little voice in my head said that maybe she'd thought that she _couldn't _ask. She was too selfless.

Maybe she hadn't wanted to ask me to give up my life for her.

"What about now? Could you tell her that…that I'd be willing? That I still want to be with her?"

"John," she said softly. "Move on. You've got a good life and you have the potential to make it even better. And you've got a brother you would've never known."

"I'd have to choose," I said, suddenly realizing what she was saying. "Mike or Heidi."

"You don't need to make a choice. The decision has been made."

"She thinks she was doing what was best for me," I insisted.

But was it what was best?

Could I walk away from the brother I'd just found to be with a woman I hadn't seen in ten years?

Did I want to?

I was flooded with anxiety at the thought of walking away from Mike and Carolyn, Alex and Bobby…they were becoming like family and if I went with Heidi, I'd never get to speak with them again.

Was I okay with that?

It was too overwhelming to contemplate tonight.

But Mary wasn't done with our heart to heart chat.

She finished off yet another drink and then covered my hand with hers again.

"John," she said and then she waited for me to meet her gaze. "She's married. She has been for almost five years now."

The force of that verbal blow took the air from my lungs. I couldn't speak or breathe or move.

And then for some reason, the most ridiculous question popped into my brain.

"To a man?"

"Yes," Mary said on a laugh. "To a man. She's not into women. Kara Quintana was sending you on a wild goose chase. She's…part of this."

"She's one of the bad guys," I said as the light dawned on me.

"Yes. So you're…okay?"

"I'm not," I replied. "But…wow. I feel…so many things right now."

"Is one of them _free_?" she asked me.

And it was weird because I hadn't considered it until she'd said it, but it was true.

I partially felt a sense of newfound freedom.

"Yes, I guess so. I've felt…committed to her for so long, almost as though we were married even though she wasn't with me. But now, to learn that she's alive, and happy, and married to someone else…" I trailed off for a moment, and then added sadly, "I guess it really is time for me to move on, huh?"

"Past time," she agreed. "I'm sorry that it had to come to this, but if you take nothing else away from this moment, make sure that you take back control of your life. It's not about being the loved one of a victim of murder. You're just a man who had to deal with tragic circumstances, and then learn to go forward. You've got a great life."

"How do you know?" I asked her, although this time the skepticism and anger was gone.

The hurt was still there, of course, but how could I blame Heidi for having a life?

"Because I'm good at my job," she said with a smile.

"So what's next?"

"We're going to settle up our tab. And then you're going to stumble up to your room while I stumble to mine, and tomorrow we'll get into the nuts and bolts of what needs to happen."

"Are you sure that we have to stumble to separate rooms?" I asked her, although I was only teasing. Mostly.

"Are you kidding me? You did _not_ just proposition me."

"You said that I need to move on, and that I need to get over my obsession with Alex, so…"

"Yeah, so find someone else to sleep with. Great. But not me."

"Because…"

"Because I have so many issues that it makes yours look like a day at the beach. And I don't mix business with pleasure."

"Never?" I joked as I pulled some cash out of my wallet.

I tossed enough down on the table to cover all of our drinks and then looked at her as she stood up and picked up her jacket.

She was good-looking. Smart. Tough.

A lot like Alex, actually.

It gave me hope that maybe one of these days I'd find a woman of my own, even if Mary wasn't it.

She stepped up close to me and put her hand on my cheek.

For a second, I thought that maybe she had changed her mind.

But then she smacked her hand lightly against my face a couple of times and took a step back and gave me a smile.

"Good night, John."

TBC...


	23. Chapter 23

**Strathmore POV**

* * *

My conversation with Mary had been eye-opening.

As brassy and straight-forward as she was, I really liked her. She didn't pull punches, and she wasn't going to tell me what I wanted to hear, but rather what I _needed_ to hear.

And the fact that in less than an hour I'd had four double shots of Jack on an otherwise empty stomach, well…that made me _think _that I was thinking straight when I more than likely was not.

That was the only explanation that I have for what I did next.

Because as I thought about Mary's words, I decided that I needed to talk to Bobby and Alex.

And Mary was right. Bobby was anything but dim-witted.

And if he even remotely suspected the amount of time that I'd spent lately imagining his wife naked, well…then I was a dead man. I just didn't know it yet.

So it was probably best to get it out in the open, clear the air so to speak.

And if he wanted to hit me, then all the better. Because I truly deserved to have my ass kicked for my lascivious thoughts.

She was my friend.

_He_ was my friend.

What was wrong with me?

Yeah, okay, so I was going through some shit, but still…if every guy started going after his friends' wives during times of strife then there'd be a hell of a lot less free men walking around in this country.

They'd all either be in a prison or a cemetery.

So, no excuses. No tip-toeing around the truth.

Just a confession and a heart-felt apology.

And hopefully I would retain all of my teeth.

I went up to the fifth floor and down the hall to their room.

I hesitated for a minute before knocking. They'd come up about a half an hour ago.

What if they were sleeping?

Or worse yet, what if they _weren't?_

I plastered my ear against the door and listened, but I couldn't hear anything.

"John?"

Talk about mortifying.

It was Alex, walking toward me with a confused look on her face and two cans of soda in her hand. And she'd just busted me attempting to eavesdrop.

"Oh, I'm…I'm…wow, this is embarrassing," I managed to say.

"What are you doing?"

"I came up to here to…well, to…talk, and then I was afraid that maybe you guys were asleep, or not, or…I don't know," I rambled.

She gave me a half smile and stood in front of me. I had my back to the door and I let my eyes travel slowly over her.

She'd gotten rid of the sweater and was now wearing just a t-shirt. It was form-fitting and as much as I tried to keep my eyes from lingering too long, I suddenly realized just exactly how inebriated I was because my eyes weren't cooperating.

Instead, they remained focused on her chest for so long that she called my name again.

"Yeah?" I asked, finally dragging my eyes up to her face.

"Did you want something?"

Boy, was that ever a loaded question.

_I want to throw you down in this hallway. _

_I want to run my hands over every inch of you. _

_I want to kiss you until you can't remember your own name_.

"Are you okay?" she asked me, now showing signs of concern.

"I think that…maybe…I had a little too much to drink."

"Let me get Bobby," she replied. "He can help you back to your room."

_Bobby_.

The man who was going to beat me senseless for my illicit thoughts.

Shit, because that's why I was here, in this hallway, with the very lovely Alex.

I'm supposed to be _apologizing_, but instead I was _leering_.

But wasn't she standing here staring at me, too? She hadn't made a move to go into the room.

"Um…" she said and then held up her key.

Oh. I was standing in front of the door knob.

I was the world's biggest idiot, and there was only one way out of this situation. I was going to confess everything. Maybe if I got it out in the open, then it would free my mind up to think about something else.

So I was going to tell them.

The dreams, the fantasies, the staring…everything.

And if Bobby let me live to see another day, then at least I could do so with a clear conscience.

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

The last thing in the world that I expected to see when I returned from the vending machine was John with his ear smashed up against our door.

What in the hell was he doing?

I mean, I was glad that he'd stopped by. I was a little bit worried about him after Mary's bombshell, but still…

Was he trying to eavesdrop? What did he think we were doing?

"John?" I called out to him.

He quickly stood up straight and turned to put his back to the door.

He swayed a little after doing so, and I wondered how much more he'd had to drink after Bobby and I left the bar.

He slurred his way through a sentence that vaguely referred to the idea that he was embarrassed at having been caught listening.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

Drunk or not, I wasn't going to let him off the hook.

I mean, seriously.

He was lurking outside of our door. If Bobby had heard him, he would've probably pulled a gun on him.

"I came up here to…well, to…talk, and then I was afraid that maybe you guys were asleep, or not, or…I don't know," he rambled.

I smiled at him, amused by his apparent inability to put a whole sentence together. He must have drunk a _lot_, because I'd never seen him quite like this.

He was unsteady and inarticulate and…_he was staring at my chest_.

My mind flashed onto Bobby's words from the other day, when he'd said that John had a crush on me. At the time, I'd thought the idea was crazy. John was probably one of the most eligible bachelors in the whole damn country, so why in the world would he be looking at me?

But now here he was, blatantly checking me out.

"John," I said firmly in an effort to get his eyes up to where they belonged.

I was in unfamiliar territory here.

I mean, obviously I'd dealt with unwanted attention before. I've had my share of suitors.

But this was different.

John was a friend, a _good_ friend, and he was currently facing a tremendous turmoil in his life, and while it was somewhat flattering to have become the object of his affection, it was important that he get over his infatuation and face reality.

And letting him down easily was going to be a must. I didn't want it to be awkward for us to be around each other in the future.

He finally acknowledged that I'd said his name, and he brought his eyes up to meet mine.

"Did you want something?" I asked him, hoping that he would refocus his concentration on whatever it was that had brought him to our room.

His face clouded over at my question as he continued to stare at me intently.

Something was definitely going on in his head.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

He slammed his eyes closed for a second and admitted to me that he'd had too much to drink.

I suggested getting Bobby, but he was blocking my access to the lock, so we stood another moment, just looking at each other.

I figured that it was only going to be another minute before Bobby came out of the room to look for me, and it would probably be better if he didn't see John standing here staring at me like I was on the menu, so I held up my key to let him know that he was in my way.

"Oh. Sorry," he muttered.

He shook his head and sidestepped away from the door so that I could slip in the keycard.

"I thought you'd gotten lost," Bobby said as I came into the room.

"No, but he is," I replied. I gave a tilt of my head toward John, who was following me, but slowly. "He's drunk," I added on a whisper.

Bobby raised his eyebrow at me, and then looked back and forth between the two of us carefully.

"John, you okay?" he asked him.

"No. No, I am not okay," he answered as he kept his eyes focused on the rug.

"I know that it has to be tough," Bobby stated. "Hearing about Heidi like that."

"It's not Heidi," he replied sharply. "It's Alex, okay?"

"Me?" I asked quickly.

Oh, this was worse than I'd thought.

_Please tell me that John is not going to make a drunken confession…_

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

I was about a minute away from going to check on Alex when I heard the keycard in the lock.

It was crazy that I'd had to worry, that we couldn't just be like normal people.

How many other husbands actually watched the clock while their wives went to the vending machine?

But considering the potential danger of our current situation, that's what I did.

Because not only did we still have the possible hit – although that was looking more and more _less_ possible – but we also were now smack in the middle of an investigation that brought us face to face with a drug cartel.

So, basically, danger lurked around every corner as far as I was concerned.

_I should've just told her to let me go instead_.

Although, simply thinking that thought had me chuckling.

I should've _told_ Alex not to go.

Yeah, that would've gone over _really_ well.

So I was relieved to hear her opening the door.

"I thought you'd gotten lost," I said to her as she walked through the door.

"No, but he is," she answered. I looked behind her to see John moving slowly and unsteadily into the room. Alex's caveat in regards to his state of inebriation was completely unnecessary.

"John, you okay?" I asked since he had stopped only a few feet inside the room.

He wasn't looking at us, and he kept taking in deep breaths. I was hoping that he wasn't getting ready to be sick.

His voice cracked on his reply as he told us that he wasn't alright, and my concern changed from the thought of him possibly throwing up to the potential that he was going to cry.

He'd just found out that Heidi was alive after ten years of thinking otherwise.

How the hell would I feel if that were Alex?

My mind scrambled to answer that question, but before I could, John finally brought his gaze up and settled first on Alex and then onto me.

_First on Alex_.

His damn gaze always settled first on Alex, I thought angrily. He and I were going to have a talk about that as soon as he sobered up.

"It's not Heidi," he answered. "It's Alex, okay?"

"Me?" she asked in surprise.

"It's you," he said quietly, and he let his focus rest on her as though he'd completely forgotten that I was in the room.

"Say what you came here to say, John," I insisted as I took a step closer to him.

My mind was debating itself as to how I was going to deal with the situation that was getting ready to unfold.

Because I knew damn well what was coming.

He's Mike's brother.

_He's lusting after my wife_.

He's a good guy.

_He's a playboy who's used to getting any woman he wants._

He's hurting right now.

_He's _going_ to be hurting right now if he keeps looking at her like that…_

"I need to apologize," he said. "To both of you. I've been acting…inappropriately."

"You've been going through a lot," Alex said with understanding. He kept staring at her and my fuse was diminishing by the second.

"It's not that simple. I've been…having these dreams, and well…fantasies, really, and…"

At that point, he stepped forward and touched her on the arm.

And that's when I lost all rational thought.

He was fantasizing about _my_ Alex?

I mean, I _knew_ it. Sort of.

But to hear him say it, and then he was going to touch her while he was saying it, and I was supposed to just stand here and listen to him and just fucking _take_ it?

N'yeah, I don't think so.

I move quickly for a man of my size, and it was only a fraction of a second after John's hand came into contact with Alex's forearm that I had him pushed back against the wall.

"You need to shut the hell up," I ground out. "Before you say something that you can't take back."

"Bobby," Alex began.

"No, it's okay," John said to her.

"Don't fucking talk to her! You talk to me! You don't just go around telling another man's wife that you're fantasizing about her! What the hell did you expect to gain from that? Did you think that if you planted the seed in her mind that she might actually take you up on it?"

"No!" he shouted, although he was struggling to get much sound out because I had my forearm jammed into his throat. And I knew that it had to hurt, but I was past caring about that.

Of all the fucking nerve…

"Then what?" I yelled.

"I was apologizing," he insisted.

"That didn't sound like much of a damn apology to me. It sounded like a fucking invitation!"

"No, I…I didn't…I just…I feel bad about it, and I tried to stop it, and…"

"Then you come and talk to _me_ about it," I told him sharply.

"I didn't…that would've…"

"Been the right thing to do? But you couldn't do that, not when you thought that there was a chance that you could have her."

"Bobby," Alex said again, and I realized that I was leaning into him so hard that I was cutting off his air supply. Although, I wasn't entirely sure that was a bad thing.

"No," he rasped out. "No, I know that she'd never….

"Well it's good to know that you haven't killed off _all_ of your brain cells," Alex said smartly.

"I'd never do that…to you….either," he continued, and I gave him points for not looking in Alex's direction even though she was standing right next to me.

"Then why?" I asked him. "Why didn't you just talk to me?"

My anger was losing steam. I felt for him, I really did, but…

"You would've let me off the hook," he said quietly.

And I realized then that he wasn't even trying to fight back.

He was a big man. Granted, not quite as big as me, but still…he could've put up a fight.

And the look on his face – I'd seen it before, in my own mirror. I hadn't seen it for a long time, but I still recognized it.

It was self-loathing.

I sighed heavily and relaxed my hold on him.

"So, what…you want me to hit you?"

"I kind of figured that you would," he admitted.

"And then what? What was your plan after _that_?"

"I…I don't know," he said as he expelled a deep breath. "Shit, Bobby, I'm really sorry. I tried to forget about it because I would never, ever try to disrupt what the two of you have, but then Mary told me that you probably already knew, and then Alex caught me staring at her chest…"

"John, you should really just quit talking now," Alex spoke up.

"Sorry," he said quickly, shaking his head. "Just…go ahead and do it, okay?"

"No, not okay," I said.

Because as much as I really wanted to hit him, I understood him.

"I'm not in the habit of punching my friends," I told him. "Especially if the reason is just to make you feel better about yourself."

"How about if it's because I deserve it?"

I took a step back from him and shook my head again.

"No. But this is it. This was your freebie. Got it?"

"Fair enough."

TBC...


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: This one kind of goes with the last one. **

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Just because I didn't hit John, that didn't meant that I didn't want to hit something.

Because I did.

I'm an open-minded guy.

And I know that Alex is an attractive woman, so it's not like I think that no one ever looks at her.

But…this was John. He was supposed to be like family.

And was he truly only trying to provoke me into a physical reaction? Or did he say what he'd said on the off-chance that Alex might be interested?

And _was_ it only an off-chance?

What was it she'd said when I told her about his crush?

Oh yeah. _He was a good-looking multi-millionaire._

So seriously, how was I supposed to compete with that?

And then that thought had me even more pissed off because why should I feel like I had to compete?

Alex was my wife.

She was in love with me.

There was no competition because I'd already _won_.

And just because he hadn't checked into the game at that point didn't change the facts.

She was mine. And that might sound possessive, but I'm fine with that.

Because I'm hers, too.

And as long as possession goes both ways, then I don't see any harm in it.

So damn John for making me doubt myself.

I was standing in front of the hotel room door, having just engaged the lock, and as I thought those words, I slammed my fist into the door.

Shit.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Alex asked me.

It came as no surprise to find her right behind me. She was always there – behind me, beside me, watching my back, backing me up…

Did I really deserve her? Did I deserve that kind of loyalty?

_Yes_, I insisted desperately.

Yes I do.

"I think everything's pretty much out in the open," I replied as I turned around.

My hand hurt like hell, and yet it felt good.

"You let him off easy," she told me. "I almost hit him myself."

"I know," I said, working to keep the smirk from my face. Because I knew how close she'd been to slugging him.

Nearly as close as I'd been.

She let out a deep breath, and then said what I'd known would be foremost on her mind.

"Please don't tell me that you think for one second that I'm even remotely interested."

Did I?

I looked at her as she stood in front of me. She had her hands on her hips and there was fire in her eyes.

I had a feeling that the wrong answer from my lips would spell trouble for me.

But I also wasn't going to lie.

"I did. For a minute."

"Did," she repeated. "Past tense."

"Yes."

"Because if we have to go through this every time some idiot thinks that they can come in between the two of us…"

"We don't," I assured her. "I was mad about how he went about telling us. Not so much about what he had to say."

"Yeah?"

"Really," I insisted. I took a step closer to her and wrapped my arms around her. "Now if you would just quit being so damn irresistible then maybe I wouldn't have to constantly deal with lovesick suitors."

She chuckled against my chest, and I instantly felt better.

No one could take this away from us.

"I wouldn't exactly call him lovesick," she said. "Just misguided."

"Well, I think we set him straight."

She pulled back from me and walked towards the bed where she stripped down to her underwear and then climbed under the covers.

She patted the spot next to her and looked at me expectantly, so I turned off the light and joined her.

"We've got a long couple of days coming up," she said quietly as she settled herself against my side. "We need to get to the bottom of this drug cartel. And we have to let Lupo know about the guy at the door, _and_ we have to tell Liz not to worry about the exhumation."

"Yeah, I wonder what's in that grave, if anything at all," I mused.

We hadn't gotten in touch with Liz or Lupo yet considering the lateness of the hour on the east coast when we'd learned the truth.

"Probably nothing," she replied.

She ran her hands along my cheek and into my hair, and then she shifted again, reaching over to kiss me on the cheek.

I let my eyes fall closed, enjoying her touch.

"You were really good with John," she said quietly. She kissed me again and again, working her way across my face with fleeting touches of her lips. "But next time…"

"Does there have to be a next time?"

"Well, you did say that I'm irresistible, so it's pretty likely," she teased.

And then she kissed my eyelids, first one and then the other. A shudder went through me at the innocent intimacy of the gesture.

"That's true," I whispered as she repeated the motion again, obviously having picked up on my enjoyment of it.

"The next time," she continued softly. "Don't even consider it for a second, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed readily.

"I mean it," she said as her mouth moved from my eyes down to my lips.

She hovered there briefly, and I opened my eyes and locked onto her gaze as she said, "Not one second."

**

* * *

**

Strathmore POV

I left the Gorens' hotel room in a state of semi-shock.

Although that condition was becoming more and more the norm for me. I wasn't sure that I could even remember what it felt like to _not_ be in some level of shock.

But after what had happened in their room, I felt like I could be the poster boy for a new scared straight program.

_How to cure yourself from dreaming about your friend's wife_.

It would be a quick and not-so-easy four-step program.

One – drink copious amounts of liquor in a short period of time.

Two – go find both the object of lust and said object's significant other.

Three – confess all of your thoughts.

Four – close your eyes and wait for the beating to commence.

And although step four had only been partially completed, it was enough.

So the smart thing to do right now would be to go back to my room and sleep it off.

Because it was a pretty safe bet that I wasn't going to be dreaming about Alex.

That's where the _scared_ part of the scared straight program came into effect.

_Thinking_ that Bobby would kill me if he knew and then _actually_ standing pinned against the wall, mere seconds away from having him do his worst…well, it was slightly different.

And much more sobering.

I've never been intimidated by any man, ever.

But - and I'll only admit this to myself - I was very intimidated back in that hotel room.

Not only that, but I also recognized the ridiculousness of my fantasy.

There was no man or woman who was ever going to come between the two of them, and I was an idiot for ever even remotely entertaining the notion.

Over the course of the past hour, I'd learned that the woman whom I'd thought was the love of my life was not actually dead, but instead was living happily, married to someone else.

_And_ I'd looked death in the eye after spilling my guts about my inappropriate desires.

All in all, I'd say it was a crappy night.

The only redeeming quality was that on the surface it appeared as though both Alex and Bobby were still willing to be my friends.

So I went back to the bar to lick my wounds. Sounds like a bad idea, right?

Probably.

Because when I got there, I found Mary.

"You're not bleeding," she stated when I sat down next to her. She hadn't even glanced in my direction, so I was once again amazed by her astuteness.

"Should I be?" I asked as I waved over the bartender.

"I'm guessing that your guilt got the best of you and so you went up to the Gorens' room to confess your secret fantasy."

"Don't stop there," I encouraged. "Tell me how it went down."

She turned on the barstool so that she was facing me.

"Oh, you like my straight-forward examinations of your life, huh?" she asked with a grin.

"They're very humbling," I agreed, returning her smile. "But maybe we can do you next."

"You want to know about my life?"

"Well, you did say that it was fucked up. It might make me feel better to know that I'm not alone in that distinction."

"The distinction of having a fucked up life?" she asked on a laugh. Then she looked at her drink and shook her head. "No. You are definitely not alone with that. I mean hey, I'm back in the hotel bar, alone, at nearly midnight after already downing enough liquor to put a couple of sailors flat on their asses, so what do you think?"

"I think that you're not alone now."

"You're a smooth one, aren't you?" she replied, once again bringing her eyes up to mine.

"I have my moments," I told her. The bartender brought my drink, so I took a moment to get a sip of it before adding, "So?"

"So," she began. "What happened after you left here? I think that you stewed about what I said. You couldn't stand the thought that Bobby might have been able to read your mind while you were picturing yourself with Alex, so you went up to their room.

"At first you planned to just apologize, but then you realized the ludicrousness of your crush because even in my own pathetic, relationship-warped mind it's pretty damn obvious that it would take a whole hell of a lot more than one John Strathmore to come between those two, so you realized that, and then you started to feel even worse because Bobby's your friend, so you probably said something to try to set him off in hopes that he'd take it out on you physically. You thought it would make it easier to ease your guilt that way.

"But he's not like that, so while he probably pushed you around a bit, he saw the truth behind what you were doing and he let you off with a warning. Although, I still say that you're lucky that _Alex_ didn't hit you, because between the two of them, she's the one that I'd be afraid of in a scuffle. Of course, I just met them tonight, so what do I know?"

"I'd say that you know quite a bit," I replied. And even though I'd been expecting her to hit the nail on the head, it was still amazing that she'd done so.

Because, like she said, she'd only just met all of us tonight.

"I know people," she said with a shrug.

"So tell me about you."

"There's not much to tell. You know what I do, so I'd rather not say where I live. People don't usually know both of those facts about me. It has to be one or the other, or there are lives at risk."

"You can't say what you do and where you live? Those are pretty basic."

"I guess that's why it makes it tough to maintain any kind of relationship. My job requires secrecy. That's not exactly a foundation block of a good relationship."

"I'm sorry. That must be hard."

"Hey, it's a choice. We all make them, right?"

"That's true," I agreed thoughtfully. I looked down at my glass and swirled the liquid slowly.

I felt so fucking tired.

"I'm going up to bed. For real this time," she said as she stood up from the stool. "You're a good guy, John. The right woman will come along. Just don't try to force it."

"Ha!" I barked out. "So you mean friends and federal agents are off limits, right?"

"The first one is obvious. As for the second, I told you my rule on business and pleasure," she reminded me.

She shrugged and went to leave, but then she turned back around and stepped closer.

"But if you need someone to dream about tonight," she said before pressing a kiss against my cheek. "There's no harm in thinking about me."

I was stunned speechless, so I simply sat on the bar stool and watched her walk away.

TBC...


	25. Chapter 25

**Alex POV**

* * *

Thursday.

I got out of bed and opened the drapes to find that the world was white.

And I'm no stranger to snow, but this was definitely not a light dusting.

I wondered if there were chains for the tires of our borrowed car.

I stepped back from the window and turned to look at Bobby. He was still asleep, which surprised and delighted me.

It wasn't often that we managed a full eight hours, especially during a case, and the fact that he had gotten it last night told me that he was comfortable with the result of our conversation.

And he wasn't stewing over the confrontation with John.

It would probably be a little bit awkward when we saw him first thing this morning, but hopefully we'd be able to settle back into a rhythm quickly.

I checked the clock and saw that it was after seven, which meant that it was after nine in New York.

It might have been a good idea for me to have gotten up earlier to make the calls but it was too late for that thought now.

So I picked up my phone and started with Lupo.

"You can call off the search for the man at our door," I told him when he answered.

"Why is that?"

"Because we know who he is."

"And?"

"And you can call off the search."

I knew that he wanted an explanation, but I couldn't give him one.

"For the assassin, or for the man at the door?" he asked me carefully.

"Uh…I guess it's possible that the threat is still plausible," I replied, and then I jumped when Bobby wrapped his arms around me from behind.

Damn, the man moved like a panther.

"It _is_ still plausible," Bobby said, his voice still thick with sleep. "Have him keep checking into it."

"Um…Lupo?"

"Yeah, I heard him. And I think he's right. I'll call off the BOLO, but I'll keep trying to track the money."

"Okay, thanks."

"Everything okay out there?"

"Yeah," I assured him, glad that he hadn't tried to pump me for information.

This whole trust thing was tough now that we were working with new people, but we were all getting there.

It was a process.

"Okay. I'll keep you posted," he said.

I hung up with him and then turned in Bobby's arms.

"I still have to call Liz," I told him, but instead of dialing, I leaned into him, resting my head against his chest.

"Mm hmm," he hummed as he stroked his hand over my hair.

"It snowed quite a bit," I mumbled idly as I relaxed against him.

"There are chains in the trunk," he told me. I smirked at how his mind went immediately to the same place that mine had gone.

"We'd better get dressed," I said, still not moving. "Mary said she'd be downstairs at eight."

"Uh huh."

"Bobby?"

"I don't work for her. Do you?"

"Nope," I answered with a smile.

He kissed me, but then slowly pulled away.

"I know," he said on a sigh. "We've got lots to do. I'm going to get in the shower. You call Liz. I'll leave the water running for you."

**

* * *

**

Liz POV

I was on my fourth cup of coffee of the morning, and that probably wasn't helping my disposition.

I'd contacted the proper authority in New Jersey to arrange exhumation.

Yesterday.

And today, I had a message that my request had been denied. And the explanations were sketchy and ever-changing.

"How can you deny it? On what grounds?"

"It's unnecessary."

"According to whom?"

"The decedent's family has blocked the request."

"The decedent had no family."

"You need a special request form, considering you're from out of state."

"What are you doing, picking answers from a magic eight ball?" I asked incredulously.

"Ma'am…"

"It's Doctor!" I shouted, annoyed beyond belief.

I'm not normally uppity about people calling me by my title.

I don't mind _ma'am_, or anything equally respectful.

Hell, I'd been called Mrs. Ross by the check-out girl in the grocery store over the weekend, and did I let it bother me? No.

Even if the name did conjure up an image of Danny's mother.

But still, my point is that I rarely correct someone for not calling me doctor.

But this was twice in two days, and it was because people were being intentionally condescending.

I sucked in a deep breath, prepared to let loose with a barrage of words that most likely would not be found in any dictionary, but then my cell phone rang.

I slammed down the office phone, deciding just to hang up rather than waste further time on that moron, and then I answered my cell.

"Liz, hi."

It was Alex.

I took another deep breath just so that I wouldn't take out my vile mood on her.

"I don't have the body," I said in a rush, unable to hold back my irritation. "Yet."

"It's okay," she told me. "That's actually why I'm calling. We don't need you to do the exam."

"You don't?" I asked in confusion.

"No. The case has….evolved…and it's no longer necessary to take a closer look at the cause of death."

"Why?"

"I…can't say."

"Alex," I argued. Because I wanted to know.

I'd raised my blood pressure over this damn thing, and now I was just supposed to drop it?

"Liz," she said firmly. "Please. I appreciate your willingness to help. But I need you to trust me on this."

She was telling me something without really saying anything at all. But I'm not Bobby, and I wasn't sure what in the hell it was.

Other than that she wanted me to let it go.

"Okay," I said at last. "But can I still report Dr. Stern to the AMA?"

She laughed at me, and then I had to laugh, too.

"Uh, can I get back to you on that?" she asked.

"That's fine," I told her.

"Thanks Liz. I mean it," she said. "When we get back, I'll tell you as much as I possibly can, okay?"

How could I argue with that?

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

For obvious reasons, Mary wanted to meet with us in the hotel rather than going straight to the police station.

Because she wasn't going to be going anywhere near the police station. In fact, as far as anyone else was concerned, she wasn't even in Denver.

So Alex commandeered a conference room, and even sweet-talked the front desk clerk into bringing in a coffee pot.

"What is up with all of the snow?" Mary grumbled as she came into the room.

John still hadn't arrived, although it was just now eight o'clock so he wasn't really late yet.

Alex and I were seated at a table with the evidence box between us and steaming cups of coffee within reach.

"And the lights," Mary continued. "Does it have to be so goddamn bright in here?"

"I take it you're not a morning person," Alex said with a smirk.

"I'm not an anytime person. I'm cranky twenty-four seven," she replied. And then she looked over at us hopefully. "You guys got coffee?"

"A whole pot," I told her, gesturing towards the side table where the pot sat on a warmer. "Alex made the clerk bring it in. Help yourself."

Mary fixed her coffee while Alex and I had a brief discussion about the evidence.

Because everything was different now.

Essentially, we no longer had an investigation since Heidi hadn't actually been killed, but we were still kind of in the middle of it, and since Mary had asked for our help, I was game to try to see it through.

There was obviously someone out there looking for Heidi, and Alex and I were being used. Someone had prompted the re-opening of the investigation in order to track down Heidi by unconventional methods.

It was actually pretty damn smart, but it was playing us as fools, and I wasn't crazy about that.

I wanted to catch the guys behind it.

I also wanted to know the details about what had happened on that fateful night, and I hoped that Mary would be able to fill in the blanks.

Of course, our conversation was filled with abbreviated sentences and half-thoughts, and by the time we finished, we looked up to find Mary staring at us.

"I am too hung over to even begin to try to decipher what you two were talking about, but I guess we'll get into it all when John gets here. But you have to actually _finish_ a thought, okay? Because otherwise, I'm just going to get annoyed."

"Won't you be that anyway?" Alex asked her with a smirk.

Mary smiled that sarcastic smile of hers that I'd already learned was her trademark. It seemed to be her version of an Alex smirk.

The two of them were a lot alike in the acerbic sense of humor department.

"Maybe," Mary agreed. "But you know what? You got coffee. You are my new hero."

"Join the club. There are already quite a few members," I said in amusement.

Alex rolled her eyes and scowled at me, and since we hadn't officially started our day yet, I leaned over and kissed her.

It was quick and chaste, and yet perfectly timed because that was when John walked in.

He only paused for a second at witnessing our slight display of affection, and then he came fully into the room.

"Oh thank God," Mary said when she saw him. "Someone other than the telepathic Gorens."

John laughed at her as he got some coffee, but then he surprised me when he said, "You're one to talk, after that complete and accurate run-down you gave me last night."

Alex looked at me and raised her eyebrow, and I shrugged slightly.

"I notice things," she deflected casually. "I watch people."

Yeah, well so did I, and right now I was noticing how close the two of them were standing.

"Thank you for last night," John said quietly, supposedly not for our ears. "You helped. A lot."

"You're very welcome," Mary replied, and this time the smile was genuine. The two of them stared at each other for a long moment.

"I wonder exactly how she helped him," Alex whispered to me.

"I don't know, but I'm glad that she did."

"Okay," Mary said suddenly, breaking away from her gaze with John. "Let's get down to business."

She came and sat down at the table, but John hesitated and then came over to me.

"Are we good?" he asked as he held out his hand.

I appreciated the fact that he was taking the bull by the horns and addressing the issue in the light of day rather than letting it linger in the background.

He did have balls, I'll give him that. And I had to respect him for that.

"We're good," I promised as I shook the proffered hand.

"Alex?" he asked when we finished.

"It's behind us," she told him. He held her gaze for a minute, and then nodded his head.

"Good. Okay. And if I'm lucky, you guys won't mention any of this to Mike, right?" he asked with a grin. "Because I've never had a little sister, but I think part of the drill is beating the snot out of anyone who messes with her so…"

"Mike doesn't have to know," Alex said, smiling back at him.

"He doesn't?" I asked innocently. "Oh, I didn't know that I wasn't supposed to say anything. I had him on the phone earlier, and he said something about catching the first flight to Denver…and then of course I had to call Kevin and Sean…"

"He's kidding," Alex said, nudging me in the shoulder.

I was glad that we could joke about it rather than having it be a bone of contention.

Although truth be told, I did plan to tell Mike.

And not really for any reason other than that I told Mike things. He and I thought a lot alike about a lot of things, and I almost always felt better after talking with him.

And I knew that Alex knew that, but she, like me, figured that we didn't need to get into it right now.

It would keep for awhile.

"Now can we get down to business?" Mary asked on a dramatic, long-suffering sigh. "Or do we need to do some more of this touchy-feely warm fuzzy feeling crap?"

I couldn't resist a brief and harmless analysis, since that seemed to be her thing.

"You just don't like it when you're not involved in a conversation," I told her. "You like to be in control, and have the focus on you, and besides that, familial situations make you uncomfortable, so you act prickly in order to keep people at a distance."

John ducked his head to hide a smile while Mary stared at me in annoyance.

Although she wasn't really annoyed.

Because then she gave me that smile, the genuine one, and said, "Oh, I would never act prickly towards you, Goren. What, just because I pulled a gun on you yesterday?"

"You pulled a gun on them?" John asked her.

"We all drew on each other," Alex clarified. "And we had the drop on her."

"Oh no," Mary argued good-naturedly. "No way. I had you guys."

"Yeah, why did you have your gun drawn?" I asked Mary, it suddenly occurring to me that even though we hadn't known who she was, she did know who we were.

"I didn't know for sure if Keyes was going to be with you," she answered. "He…he watched you guys in the parking lot."

"He did?" Alex asked with concern. And I was right there with her, because here I'd thought we were being hyper-vigilant and yet I hadn't even considered the possibility that someone was watching us last night.

"Yeah, you sat in your car for a few minutes," she reminded us. "I finally came in and put the sign on the elevator, and then waited in the stairwell, but I wasn't completely sure that Keyes wouldn't approach you again with some lame-ass excuse about maybe wanting to go over evidence."

It made sense, but it still gave me a slightly nauseous feeling. We'd had Keyes and Mary both watching us in the parking lot.

What if one of them had been the hit man?

"Wait, so you put the sign on the elevator?" John asked her. "Why didn't you take it back off? I'm on the eighth floor!"

"It's good exercise," she told him as she patted him on the forearm. "Okay, are we ready to get down to it?"

At everyone's affirming nods, she continued.

"First off, and I know this is obvious, but I have to say it anyway…nothing we discuss in here can leave this room."

TBC...


	26. Chapter 26

**Logan POV**

* * *

Wednesday was the same as Tuesday.

Idyllic. Peaceful. Rejuvenating.

And when I woke up on Thursday morning, I wasn't sure if I could handle another day of it.

I know. It sounds crazy.

But I'm an action kind of guy. And action was about the last thing going on down here.

Well, okay. So I was getting plenty of _some_ kinds of action.

And I mean _plenty_.

In fact, if I had someone to brag to about that, I would because I don't know if there was something in the air, or in the water, or what, but man…Rio was better than Viagra.

Or so I guessed.

But other than the sex, I was about done with vacation.

And don't get me wrong, I was enjoying the sex. I was enjoying the _hell_ out of the sex. There was something about the atmosphere down here that had completely wiped out all of whatever remaining inhibitions each of us had.

Honestly, it was a miracle that we had yet to be arrested for public indecency, although I think the standards in Rio were vastly different than they were back home.

But still…I was itching for a case.

I wondered what the Gorens were doing.

I wondered what Lupo and Bernard were doing.

Hell, I even wondered if Rodgers had examined any interesting corpses lately.

And then I started eyeing the other people in the resort.

Did that guy look like a fugitive?

Did that woman just steal an apple from that vendor?

Was it possible that the maid was actually a key player in an international money laundering racket?

See? I was desperate.

So, Thursday morning, I laid in the bed and watched the paddles on the ceiling fan as they slowly made their way around the circuit.

"I think I'm going to check in with Bobby this morning," I said quietly.

I knew that Carolyn was awake, even though she hadn't spoken yet. I was tuned into her, and her breathing had changed slightly a few minutes earlier, and then she'd subtly eased just a little bit closer to me.

"You're ready to go home, aren't you?" she asked me.

She knew me well.

"I just want to see how the case is going," I deflected.

"Okay. But I'll call Alex. You call Lupo and check in with him," she said, and now I could tell that she was smiling.

I ran my hand down her bare back and pushed gently, encouraging her to move on top of me.

She did, stretching her body over mine, and then she rested her forearms on my chest and looked at me with a spark in her eye.

"It's not just me, is it?" I asked, unable to keep from grinning.

"How pathetic are we?" she replied.

"Pretty pathetic," I agreed.

"I've never been on a vacation this long before," she admitted. "I started staring at the waitress last night because I thought she looked vaguely like number seven on the FBI's most wanted list."

I chuckled at her, amazed at how much alike we were, and then ran my fingers through her hair.

"I love you," I told her softly. "And this vacation was the perfect idea. I feel so much better about…I don't know…everything. I think I've been able to put some things into perspective and it's helped. A lot."

"But?" she asked.

"But yeah, I'm ready to go home. You?"

"Uh huh," she agreed.

But then she shifted against me, putting the right amount of pressure in areas that were appreciative of said pressure.

"Well, maybe not just yet," she amended as leaned down and kissed me with purpose.

"What, you want to do it right here in the bed?" I asked in mock horror. "That's so risqué."

Because honestly, we hadn't used the bed for much other than sleeping since we'd gotten here.

"Well, I am a rebel," she told me as she slowly slid down my body, kissing first my chest and then moving on to my stomach.

"Yes you are, sweetheart," I murmured.

And then I gave up all pretense of having any kind of conversation, and instead leaned my head back and closed my eyes.

We'd call Lupo later. And Alex.

And then book a flight to whichever city where we were needed most.

**

* * *

**

Lupo POV

I hung up the phone after talking with Alex and I sat back in my chair and looked at the ceiling.

They knew who the guy was. And I didn't need to keep looking for him.

I wasn't crazy about dropping it. A detective's mind didn't just shut off because it was supposed to. In fact, mine rarely shut off at all. Except sometimes when Connie…

_Focus, Lupo_.

Okay, so quit worrying about the guy.

Did that mean that the hit was still viable?

Goren seemed to think so.

Or was he just being overly protective of his wife?

I didn't think so.

Stoat had information about Alex on his phone.

He and Candi had stolen twenty grand, ten of which was missing.

The logical scenario was that the other ten had been paid for the hit.

Testarossa had screwed up their plans by catching on to their thievery, but he had also ultimately, potentially saved Alex's life.

Because if Testarossa hadn't killed Stoat, then we might've never known about the hit request, and it definitely would've gone out.

It made me like Testarossa slightly more.

He'd moved up from cockroach status to possibly somewhere around snake.

I really needed to track the money. And since no one was talking, my best means of doing so was through the phone records.

"Hey Lupes," Bernard said as he crossed the squad room. "Ross wants an update."

"An update on what? How numb my ass is from sitting in this chair looking at phone logs?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of where are we on the mystery man," Ross said from behind me.

"Oh, Cap, I'm sorry," I said, jumping to my feet, and in the process, turning over my two-hour old cup of coffee. It spilled onto my paperwork, causing the phone logs to turn a lovely shade of light brown.

"Relax, Detective. I know you're getting frustrated," Ross said.

And he wasn't smiling, but he looked like he wanted to. Maybe. At least he wasn't yelling at me for my smart ass comment.

"As for the mystery man, he um…is no longer a um…priority."

"According to whom?"

"Alex. She called a few minutes ago, and said that they know who the guy is.'

"So who is he?"

"She wouldn't say."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Bernard asked.

"I think it means that she didn't want to say," I repeated.

It was funny, but it had annoyed me when she wouldn't tell me, and yet now I was defending her to my partner.

"Wouldn't or couldn't?" Ross asked as he narrowed his eyes at me.

"She said that she couldn't say," I told him. "So that takes out that portion of the search. We're down to phone records, and money, and personal interviews."

"Well that's just great," Bernard said in frustration. "Because what are the odds that someone will talk at Strippers-R-Us? And that money has gone the way of D.B. Cooper. This should be a cake walk."

"You still got a guy looking into the back track of the hack?" Ross asked me.

"Yeah, Cap. And I'm working on the phone records," I said again. "Somebody had to call somebody. If the contract was made, they got in touch with each other at some point. It's in here," I concluded as I picked up a couple of papers and waved them in Bernard's direction.

Coffee ran down the sheets and onto the floor.

Damn, I should've stayed in the bed this morning.

"Keep at it, Detectives. And keep me in the loop."

**

* * *

**

Ross POV

I was surprised to learn that Alex had pulled Lupo off the mystery man, and a little bit disappointed that she hadn't called me.

I mean, I was their boss. Lupo and Bernard's, that is.

Of course, I knew that they were friends.

And how many times had Logan circumvented me back when Alex and Bobby still worked for me, choosing to go directly to them with investigative questions or hunches?

Plenty. I guess this was the same thing.

And it was because of me that Lupo and Bernard were friends with all of them anyway. I mean, I'm the one who brought them into the last case, and it was my idea to use Lupo in a position of trust with Logan, so….

_Let it go, Danny_.

Alex wasn't trying to usurp my authority. She was just going straight to the source in her no-nonsense way that always got the job done.

I left Lupo and Bernard at their desks, where Lupo was cleaning up the spilled coffee and seemingly succeeding in making an even bigger mess.

And of course, Bernard had to rib him about it.

Those two bickered like cats and dogs for a large majority of the time, and yet all it took was one joke from Bernard to put them back on even footing.

My phone rang as I closed my office door behind me. I pulled it from the clip on my belt and let out a sigh of relief when I saw that it was Liz.

I needed a minute just to breathe and it would be nice to hear her voice.

"How's your exhumation coming?" I asked her when I answered.

"It's not. I was denied."

"And you let it go?"

There was no way in the world that Liz ever took no for an answer. If it came down to it, I had no doubt that she'd drive to New Jersey herself, with a shovel in the back of the car.

"I did, yes," she said hesitantly.

"Why?"

"Because…Alex asked me to."

"She asked you to dig up the body yesterday, and then today she changed her mind."

"Uh huh."

"And she wouldn't say why?"

"Nope. But she did say that she would tell me what she could when she got back."

"Something's going on out there," I stated.

"You think?" she asked smartly.

"No, I mean it's more than just that. Alex called Lupo this morning, too. She told him that she knew the identity of the man who tried to get into their apartment."

"Who was it?"

"She wouldn't say," I told her pointedly.

"I guess they'll tell us eventually," she replied dismissively.

"I liked it better when I could order them to tell me things," I grumbled.

"Yeah, because that always worked out well for you," Liz teased.

And I wasn't really upset about the secrecy. If it didn't relate to the potential hit case that Lupo and Bernard were working then it honestly wasn't any of my business.

But I'd still like to know.

"Hey, Cap?" Lupo said. He'd opened the door just a crack and poked his head through.

"Just a second," I told him. Then to Liz, I said, "I've got to run. Lunch?"

"Come and get me."

I hung up with her and then looked at my detective.

He was a good guy. Hard-working, honest, smart…if I couldn't have the Gorens, then he was the next best thing.

Hell, maybe he was even better because he didn't have quite the same urge to bend the rules that they did.

"I'm going to run out for a bit," he told me. "I may have something on the hack job."

"Bernard?"

"Nah, just me. It's um…well, it's not exactly…"

"You're not using department resources," I stated. "You're having some kind of underground hacker look at it, aren't you?"

"It's…well…"

"Go," I said with a wave of my hand.

Okay, so maybe he did bend the rules. Maybe he was a lot like them.

But maybe sometimes the rules needed to be bent in order to get anything done.

After all, that department computer expert had been working on the issue for two days and come up empty.

So if Lupo's guy found something, then more power to him. Maybe a little bit of thinking outside of the box was a good thing around this place.

"Hey, Cap?"

This time it was Bernard.

"What's up?" I asked him.

"Lupes split to check his basement toolsmith."

"Yeah, he told me," I replied, and I was glad that Lupo had told me.

Otherwise I might not have been a hundred percent sure what the hell Bernard was talking about.

"So, I'm going over to Arcadia to chat me up some strippers. You wanna be my wingman?"

I stared at him for a moment, and then closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

Like I said, maybe outside of the box was a good thing.

I stood up and grabbed my coat.

"Do I need any one-dollar bills?" I quipped dryly as we headed out of my office.

"How long has it been since you hit up a strip joint?" Bernard chuckled.

I should probably text Liz along the way to let her know where I was going.

She'd told me once that Goren had done that for Alex, and even though Liz had laughed about it, I could tell that she thought it was sweet.

_Sweet_.

Huh. Since when did I start acting sweet?

"It's Lincolns now, Cap," Bernard was saying as we headed toward the elevator.

"Great," I said with a roll of my eyes. "Let's go."

TBC...


	27. Chapter 27

**A/N: Bonus chapter today for my mom, who asked for just one more before she heads off on her internet-less trip. Drive safe :)**

**Lupo POV**

* * *

"This is some serious black ops shit."

I stood back and watched the monitor as my contact produced screen after screen of indecipherable code.

Or at least, that's what it looked like to me.

Which was amazing, because I thought that I was pretty good with computers.

But this guy…this guy was _good._

Although his choice of terminology couldn't go unchallenged.

"Black ops?" I asked dubiously. "Do you even know what that means?"

"Dude, do _you_ know what it takes to write code like this?" he continued.

"Not really, but you're cracking it, right?"

"Cracking it? You mean like, windtalkers shit? Dude, you don't _crack_ computer code anymore. You hack it. Or break it. Or back door it. Shit."

Okay, so this guy was good _and_ weird.

My cell phone buzzed while my unnamed contact continued to ramble on and on about my ignorance on the inner workings of tracking a hack.

Of course I was ignorant about it.

Why the hell did he think that I'd come to him?

I pulled out my phone and took a couple of steps away as I answered the call.

"Lupo, it's Mike."

"Logan! Shit, man. If I need to tell you how to spend your time in Rio…"

"I'm checking on the case," he interrupted. "I think we've already established that I don't need any pointers from you on anything."

"It's moving," I told him. "The guy at the door was nothing. Non-related."

I continued filling him in on the progress of the case, outlining what had happened with Testarossa and April.

"Sounds like you could use some help," he said.

"I've got Bernard."

"And not many leads. Carolyn just talked to Alex and they think that a couple more days in Denver ought to do it. We need to make sure that it's safe for them to come back home."

"I hear you. I'm working as hard as I can."

"Me and Carolyn are flying back today. It'll be late when we get in, but I'm hoping that you'll meet with us, maybe go over the latest and map out what's next."

"You're coming back early?"

"Yeah," he said. "We're ready."

"You're bored," I concluded. "In Rio. Man, you _do_ need some pointers."

"Are you gonna meet us tonight, or what?" he asked good-naturedly.

"Yeah, what time?"

"The plane lands at midnight."

"We'll come to your place. One o'clock, okay? I'll bring what I've got. Fresh eyes won't hurt."

I hung up with Logan and looked at the hacker, who was staring at me intently.

"So can you tell me who got through, or what?" I asked him.

"Well…yeah," he answered as though I'd asked the dumbest question in the world. He pushed back from the computer and stared up at me through thick lenses.

But still he didn't say anything.

I was starting to lose my patience. I hadn't met the guy personally before, but he was a friend of a friend of an old girlfriend.

I had no problem working the chain.

But sometimes it brought me in contact with some really…interesting people.

I held out my hands and nodded my head slowly, encouragingly.

"Are you sure you're not going to tell anybody how you got this information?" he asked me.

"I won't."

"Because I can't go back to prison."

"You've done time?" I asked skeptically. He looked around the room as though he expected someone to appear from thin air, and then he turned back to me.

"I hacked NORAD," he whispered.

"No kidding," I said on a laugh. "Okay, so then this was a piece of cake."

"Comparatively speaking."

"So who was it?" I asked slowly, enunciating each word.

"The U.S. Marshal Service."

So I left the high tech work shop of my toolsmith.

And by high tech workshop, I actually mean the basement of his parents' tiny ranch-style home in Secaucus.

But whatever the venue, the guy had produced.

And it didn't take a genius to figure out that the hack was also the guy at the door.

A U.S. Marshal.

No wonder Alex hadn't wanted to elaborate.

Because it also didn't take a genius to put two and two together. And now I had a pretty good idea of how the case was going in Denver.

I mean, I still had a lot of questions.

I had _hundreds_ of questions.

But I was pretty sure that I knew the basic idea.

I called Bernard, and heard music playing in the background.

"Where are you?" I asked him as I heard female laughter.

"Hey, Lupes! Me and the Cap are at Arcadia. You should come on over!"

"Business or pleasure?"

"Business, man. You know me."

"Yeah, I _do_ know you. You got Ross to go with you?"

"He's doing okay."

"He looks like a cop," I reminded him.

Because I liked Ross, I really did, but I just couldn't picture him blending well in a strip club.

"We didn't try to hide it," he told me. "But you've heard of good cop, bad cop, right? Well, we're doing cool cop, lame cop. Guess which one I am?"

"Cap hears you calling him lame, and you're going to be the _out of work_ cop," I replied, although I couldn't help but smile at Bernard's enthusiasm. "So what do you know?"

"You tell me. Did your guy shoot blanks?"

"Yeah," I told him. "He couldn't trace the hack. In fact, he thinks that it was a virus made to look like a hack."

"What?"

"Yeah. It's like an automated worm."

"So it may not have anything to do with the hit?"

"Right. I'm pretty sure that it doesn't."

I didn't like lying to my partner.

In fact, I really tried to avoid it.

But U.S. Marshals were serious shit, and I wasn't about to be the one to blow the whistle.

"So what about you? Is your cool cop routine paying off?"

"I got a girl who thinks that she saw April with a guy out in the alley last week."

"Oh, a guy in the alley," I replied sarcastically. "That sounds promising."

"It is, Lupes. She said that the guy looked like he was in the _trash removal _business."

"Did she know what she was saying?"

"She gave me the look," he confirmed.

So April was talking to a Mafioso. This was not looking good for Alex.

"We need to ask April about him. We need to find out who the hell he is."

"That's what I'm thinking," he agreed.

"What else?" I asked him.

"I think we need to teach the captain the proper protocol for getting a lap dance," he joked.

"You do that and Rodgers will have you on her table," I chuckled.

"I hear ya," he laughed. "But okay, get this. My girl also told me that April spent some time on a payphone last week. Who does that when they carry a cell phone?"

"Please tell me it's outside of the building," I said.

"Nah, it's in the back room," he told me. "Now if only we knew an ADA who could get us a warrant for those records…"

"I'm on it."

I hung up with Bernard and called Connie.

Cutter answered.

This time, I didn't hang up.

"She's in chambers," he told me. "I'll tell her that you called."

"It's…um…it's actually business," I said. "I need a warrant."

"She's doing my dirty work. I'll take care of hers. What do you need?"

I was surprised by his willingness to help, and even more so when, after I'd brought him up to speed on the situation, he assured me that he'd have the documents to me by the end of the day.

Okay, so maybe my jealousy had previously tainted my perspective.

"Do you need a wire tap?"

"She's in lock-up," I told him.

"Spring her," he suggested. "And I'll get you the tap."

"Are you sure?"

"Murder for hire is a big deal. I'll get it."

Since he was being so helpful, I decided to push it.

"How about a search warrant for both girls' lockers at the club? I still need to find that money, and it wasn't at either residence."

"Give me an hour," he assured me.

"Okay. I'll wait until then to spring April so that she can't get to it."

"Great. I'll call you back."

I hung up with Cutter with a renewed sense of progress.

Things were coming together.

What were the odds that April was talking to a mobbed-up guy for some _other_ reason?

Okay, so the odds were pretty decent, but still…it was a lead.

I drove back into the city. Despite Bernard's invitation, I had no interest in going by Arcadia.

At least not until I had my warrant.

I thought about going to talk to April, but then I decided that a tail would be better. I'd serve the search warrant, then set her loose, and _then_ see where she went.

So for now, I headed for 1PP.

I had stacks of documents waiting for me. I was actually excited that I would soon have a couple more sets of eyes.

Although, I couldn't believe that Mike and Carolyn were coming back early.

But I could kind of understand.

I mean, I liked to stay busy, too. And having day after day of no schedule, no purpose, no responsibilities…well, it got old.

When I'd had time off between the 2-7 and MCS, I'd worked the Hagen case.

And then I'd painted the living room.

And the bedroom.

And _then_ I'd volunteered at the animal shelter.

So yeah, I could understand the need for activity.

I pulled out my phone at a stoplight so that I could send Bobby a quick text, hopefully to ease his mind a little.

Because if the Marshal Service was responsible for the personnel file hack, then it was possible that the hit information was incomplete. Stoat may have still been in the process of trying to find their address, which would explain why the hit request hadn't yet been sent.

Because the Gorens' address wasn't published, so it wasn't just a matter of googling them on the internet.

Obviously.

Because even the marshals had resorted to hacking.

So even considering the theft and the fact that April had been speaking with a goombah, it was very possible that things hadn't been pushed forward further than that.

And now that Stoat was dead, it was a safe bet that the plan would stall out because why would Candi or April care about offing Alex when they could just keep the money instead?

Or theoretically, anyway. Of course, now that they were both busted for larceny, then they wouldn't actually be keeping the money, but still…

So I sent Bobby the text.

_**Personnel files accessed by USMS**_.

He replied within a minute and his response confirmed my suspicion.

_**Who else knows?**_

I responded:

_**Just me. I gave mis-information.**_

And just as quickly, he replied:

_**I OWE YOU. Full disclosure when we get back.**_

My gut had been right.

And it made me feel just a little bit better about lying to Bernard, and ultimately to Ross as well.

But it didn't make me feel better about what was going on in Denver.

_Because they were still there_.

And Logan had said that they planned to stay a couple more days.

If they already knew about the Marshal Service and they appreciated the need for secrecy, then they already knew that their murder victim was actually in Witsec.

So why stick around, unless they'd stumbled into a beehive?

But look who I was talking about.

I used to think that trouble had a way of finding them.

Now I was starting to wonder if it was just that they never turned the other cheek.

They never looked the other way simply because it wasn't part of their case. They always wanted to do what was right, no matter the cost.

And I thought that I'd respected them before.

Now I realized why Logan had called me twice from Rio.

Because he wanted to do anything and everything to look out for them.

And now, so did I.

TBC...


	28. Chapter 28

**Strathmore POV**

* * *

I was glad that I'd refused to let the issue linger.

Catching Bobby kissing Alex as I'd walked into that conference room was like a final, blindingly bright light bulb going off in my head.

She would never have eyes for anyone but him.

And honestly, I was okay with that. I was _happy_ with that because he deserved someone as great as her.

I was even happier with the fact that I hadn't dreamed about Alex last night. And that's not to say that my subconscious wouldn't backslide from time to time, because really, we can't control our dreams.

But my daydreams, I could control, and my thoughts before falling asleep, which often dictated a very specific path for my dreams – those I could control as well.

So last night, as I prepared to fall asleep, I'd thought about Mary.

And I'd ended up dreaming about Heidi.

Not any kind of erotic dream, but I'd just pictured her as she maybe was right now, in the kitchen of some cute little house in middle class suburbia, fixing breakfast for her husband before he went off to work.

And when I woke up, the pain wasn't debilitating.

In fact, it only hurt a little to picture her with someone else.

Because she was happy.

It was possible that I wasn't a self-centered asshole after all.

So I'd walked into the conference room, and after a brief chat with Mary, I bit the bullet, and offered to shake Bobby's hand.

He probably didn't know it, but I didn't breathe at all in the four-point-two seconds that it took him to acquiesce.

And the next thing I knew, they were teasing me about telling Mike so that he could kick my ass, and suddenly my world was almost back in balance.

Then Mary reminded us that we had work to do. Although that was briefly derailed when Bobby did a condensed spot-on analysis of Mary that was amusing.

Or at least it was until I learned a detail that was a little disturbing.

"You pulled a gun on them?" I asked.

"We all drew on each other," Alex clarified. "And we had the drop on her."

"Oh no," Mary argued good-naturedly. "No way. I had you guys."

Their teasing was ended when Bobby asked for the explanation of the necessity of the gun in the first place.

And that was my first real inkling that there was much more to this situation than I'd thought.

Because I'd been focused on the Heidi-aspect of this whole thing, but now I was beginning to see that it was much more complex.

But I took a last-minute respite from the seriousness when I heard Mary say that she'd been the one to put the sign on the elevator.

Which meant that it wasn't out of order.

"Wait, so you put the sign on the elevator?" I asked her. "Why didn't you take it back off? I'm on the eighth floor!"

And eight flights had been bad enough when I was sober, but the trip upstairs when I was drunk had taken me much longer than I will ever admit.

"It's good exercise," she told me as she patted me on the forearm. "Okay, are we ready to get down to it?"

At everyone's affirming nods, she continued.

"First off, and I know this is obvious, but I have to say it anyway…nothing we discuss in here can leave this room."

"So I have to go on pretending that Heidi is dead?" I asked.

And I wasn't sure that it really mattered either way, but I didn't know how this thing was supposed to work.

"Would you rather say that she's in witness protection? I mean really…what do you gain from that?"

Nothing. She was right.

"Just lay it out," Bobby encouraged.

I could tell that it wasn't in Mary's nature to be forthcoming about her job with virtual strangers, but she apparently needed Bobby and Alex's help, and she got me by default, so she took a deep breath and then got down to it.

"What you learned about Heidi is true. She lied about her education to get her job with Caduceus. She was smart, but never applied herself in school. She was a fast learner, and felt that she deserved a break, so she falsified her application. She only lied to you because she'd already lied to them and she had to keep up her story."

I could understand that. Sometimes lies got out of control, and at least I knew that she hadn't lied just to try to look better to me.

"In 1998, she was approached by Kara Quintana. Heidi was doing a lot of traveling to Denver, which was Kara's old area. Apparently, Kara had built up quite the clientele of drug buyers, but since Heidi had taken over the location, Kara wanted to bring her into the fold."

"And Heidi went along with it?"

"She did," Mary said. "But first, she contacted the FBI and told them what was going on."

"So she was working with the Bureau the whole time," Alex stated.

"That's right. That arrest record you caught wind of was because the Denver PD picked her up. An agent got her released and made sure that it didn't stick on her record."

"What happened on the night that she was supposedly killed?" Bobby asked.

"Heidi told her handler that she wanted to do one more meeting. She thought that Valero had some moles inside the police department, and she was hoping to get it out of him."

"The agents encouraged her to put her life on the line," I said.

"Probably," Mary agreed. "But she wanted to do it. She's told me that herself."

"So that night, she went to meet up with Valero to pick up some stock, right?" Alex asked.

"That's right. They were selling a unique version of cocaine. They had their own recipe for cutting it down. It was supposed to be some real potent stuff. They even had a clever name," she told us with a wry smile. "Mile high."

"How cliché of them," Alex muttered. "And Heidi was keeping up with the distribution methods? The points of sale and other runners?"

"Valero had a system for writing his stuff down. It was all in code."

"A smart drug dealer. I'm impressed," Bobby said. "So Heidi learned the code since she was a distributor. I'm guessing that none of the distributors ever left Valero's operation alive, right? No one could explain the code, and the cops couldn't break it so they had no proof, other than to catch him red-handed."

"And red-handed would only mean that he'd go down for what he was doing that moment. Without cracking the code, we couldn't book him for everything else."

"A _very_ smart drug dealer," Alex added.

"Yes he is," Mary agreed. "But he didn't count on Heidi making it out alive."

"So that night," Bobby said. "Valero got suspicious?"

"Uh huh."

"How _did_ she manage to not get killed?" I questioned.

It was crazy, but even ten years after the fact, and even knowing now that Heidi made it out of there alive, my heart was pounding just considering the scenario.

She'd stood up to a gang banger. I tried to reconcile that image with the memory that I kept of her in my head…it just didn't work.

"Because _she_ was smart," Mary said. "And lucky. FBI had infiltrated the gang a few months earlier, trying to work it from that angle, too. He was still a soldier at that point, and hadn't learned all of the details yet, but it worked out for the best that he was still a peon."

"Valero told the undercover to kill Heidi," Bobby said.

"Right. Everything after that was complete fabrication."

"Who knows the truth? What about detective Rollins?"

"He only knows the story that the feds gave to him."

"So he worked a murder without the body?"

"They gave him a cock and bull story about the bureau taking custody of the body, and they supplied him with a fake autopsy report."

"So Dr. Stern is…"

"Dr. Stern is an old ME with memory trouble. We put his name on the report, and he has no idea whether he did the exam or not," she said with a roll of her eyes. And then she got serious again. "But the undercover _did_ shoot Heidi. He had to make it look good. The blood in the photos is real, and the casings were real."

"So she was shot?" I asked dumbly.

"Twice," Mary agreed. "Valero had given him his gun to do the deed. Fortunately, he didn't wait around to see it happen. Otherwise the feds would've had to go in right away. As it was, she ended up with two non-life-threatening gunshot wounds. And she was ready to testify as to the workings of the operation whenever the feds got around to making their case."

"So that's why she had to go into protection."

"Well, that and the fact that Valero ordered her dead. If he thought that she wasn't, then not only would the cover of the undercover agent have been blown, but also Valero would've still come after Heidi. So her being dead was safer for everyone. The feds called me in that night and I got her set up."

"So what's going on now?" Alex asked. "What does Keyes have to do with all of this?"

"We think that Keyes is working with the drug cartel. He was a beat cop at the time, so we're not sure if he was the mole that Heidi suspected originally, or if there are others, but we do think that he's a paid employee of the gang."

"He popped the ballistics report," Alex said.

"Yes he did," Mary replied. "Even though we'd essentially put a lock on the file. Invisible of course, but still…no new evidence should've hit on that case."

"So Keyes prompted the resurrection of the investigation, and it was his good fortune that John called us in when Rollins went with the party line."

"And now he's following you two, hoping that you'll lead him to Heidi."

"And you want us to…falsely lead them to her? So that we can see who comes after her?" Bobby asked.

"Right. Because we still don't know all of the players. Valero is in custody for the murder, and we can pick up the evidence on him. With Heidi's testimony, he'll be going away for a long time. But you know, even if you only see just one cockroach..."

"Hundreds more have scattered at the first sign of light," Alex finished.

"Right. So we want to do this through the back door and make sure we take out as many as possible. We want to make _mile high_ a thing of the past and put all of the dealers in prison."

"So what happened to the undercover?" I asked, although I had a feeling that I didn't want to know the answer. "Surely he's infiltrated the upper level by now."

"He was killed," she told us. "They sniffed him out a few months later. And after they realized that he was a fed, they began to suspect that Heidi wasn't really dead. But at that time, the feds didn't have a case and Heidi was in the wind, so I think they decided that she wasn't all that important."

"And now they have a case because of the murder. Who was Cortez, and why did Valero kill him? I mean, I know I'm new at all of this crime stuff, but aren't you saying that Valero had other people do his killings?"

"With his gun. He used his gun when he wanted to send a message. Heidi would've been a message to his other runners. _Don't fuck with me._ Cortez tried to take over part of Valero's territory. So he was a message. Whether Valero pulled the trigger or not, we don't know yet, but it was his gun, so he got popped."

Alex's phone rang, so she excused herself and stepped outside to answer it, and Bobby followed her, mumbling a quick explanation of needing to stretch his legs.

"You doing okay?" Mary asked me.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm…it's just…it's hard to imagine Heidi involved with…this. She stood up to drug dealers. She wore wires, and made buys…when she was with me, we went to cocktail parties, and movie premiers, and casino openings. And all that time, she was probably worrying herself sick. That I would find out. That Valero would find out. That she would get killed. What kind of life was that?"

"See what I mean? She's happy now," Mary said softly.

"I guess her life is a lot simpler now, huh?"

"She went back to school. She's a nurse. And…are you sure you want to know this stuff?"

"I do. What is it?"

"She's going to have a baby soon. That's why we went ahead and moved her on the off-chance that she'd be compromised. We didn't want to run the risk of her being found after the baby was born, and then having to uproot them. So we erased her life once again, and started her out fresh, _again_. Her and her husband, and in another month, her son."

I sat for a moment in stunned silence, and then I did the strangest thing.

I closed the twenty inches of distance between us and I kissed Mary, right on the lips.

It was brief and chaste and not really passion-inspiring at all, but I just held my lips against hers for several longs seconds, marveling that she didn't back away from me.

Then I finally pulled away and looked at her, the shocked expression on her face slowly giving way to a slight smile.

"Thank you for telling me," I told her quietly. "You didn't have to. And I'm sure you probably had to twist some arms to get approval to do so. But thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied.

I sat back in my chair and took a sip of my now-cold coffee.

"But I'm still not going to sleep with you," she added.

"I didn't think that you would," I replied with a grin.

"Sure you do," she argued. "You think that you're going to be all suave and appreciative, and then I'm going to feel sorry for you, and then when we finish this case, I'm going to hop into bed with you."

"Are you sure that you're not?"

"Am I sure?" she asked.

And then she shook her head and let out a light chuckle before adding, "The only sureties in this life are death and taxes, right?"

TBC...


	29. Chapter 29

**Alex POV**

* * *

I took the call from Carolyn because I thought it was time to take a break.

Mary was throwing quite a bit of information at us, and I knew that not only did John need a moment, but also that Bobby would want to let the details swim around in his head for a minute.

So I excused myself and stepped out, knowing that Bobby would follow.

"It's Carolyn," I told him just before I answered.

I said hello to her as I watched him pace the hallway.

"What's new out there?" she asked me.

_Very good question_, I thought.

Because basically, _everything_ was new.

But I couldn't exactly tell her that.

I mean, I _could_.

And eventually, I probably _would_.

Mike and Carolyn knowing the truth wasn't going to jeopardize anything. It's not like we knew Heidi's location, or even her new identity. So just knowing that she wasn't dead wouldn't compromise the program.

But it was probably a good idea to at least wait until this whole thing was over.

Until then, the fewer the people in the know, the better.

"We're getting close," I told her ambiguously. "A couple more days, and we should be able to wrap things up."

"Do you need some help?"

"Why?"

"We've had enough of fun and sun," she said on a laugh. "We're kind of itching to get back to work."

"Are you kidding me? You can't entertain yourselves for a whole week in Rio?" I asked her.

"Could you?"

"You forget that Bobby and I spent some time in Mexico last summer, and then we even took a few extra days off so that we could take our time driving home from Florida."

"Oh, I remember that," she teased. "Because then you had to stumble onto a drug-running business, and Bobby got arrested for murder, and…"

"Yeah, okay," I agreed. "So maybe it wasn't a _completely_ relaxing vacation, but still…how are you guys, really?"

"Better," she assured me. "We've done a lot of talking. And I've gone two nights in a row now without bad dreams, so…"

"Okay," I replied. "And Mike?"

"I think that he's a lot better, too."

"Good," I said. And then because I couldn't resist joking with her, I added, "But what I meant is, how is his tan?"

She laughed out loud, and then to my surprise, she answered me.

"Not a tan line in sight," she said. "And believe me, I've checked him out. Thoroughly."

"I bet you have. So, tell me again why you guys are ready to come home?"

"Well, we figured that since we're trying to solve crimes that aren't actually happening…"

"Ah," I said knowingly. "You've been eyeballing the other guests, trying to figure out if they're on the most wanted list?"

"Exactly."

"Well, we'd love to have you, but I'm afraid that by the time you got here, we'd probably be done."

"Okay. Maybe we'll see if Lupo needs our help."

"You've been keeping up with him, haven't you?" I asked her, catching onto the sudden seriousness in her tone of voice.

"Mike called him the other night, but that's it. And hey, if he's got it under control, then we can always work on that backlog that you and Bobby were going to handle. Oh, have you talked to John lately? Mike left him a message, but he hasn't talked with him."

"He's actually in Denver, with us."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said innocently.

"Alex…"

"Nothing is wrong," I promised. "He interviewed some people himself and then decided that he needed to come out here, so we're letting him help. Sort of. But he's fine."

"You just sounded strange when you said that."

I don't know why I kept forgetting that she could read me almost as well as Bobby.

"We'll talk when we're all back in New York, okay?"

I hung up with Carolyn and found Bobby looking at me.

"She knows something is up, huh?"

"Doesn't she always?" I replied. "They're going home today. I imagine they'll jump into the case with Lupo."

"Good," Bobby said firmly.

"I really don't think that there's much of a case left there, do you?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But if there is, they'll figure it out."

"So what do you think of this mess?" I asked him as I gestured towards the conference room door.

"I'm wondering why they falsified an autopsy report and then left questions on it," he stated.

"You think Keyes added that information, knowing that it would be cause for curiosity?"

"Maybe," he agreed. "Or someone did. Liz said Stern was clueless, right?"

"Yeah. In fact, she wants to report him to the AMA."

"Well, maybe he didn't remember what happened with the evidence because evidence was never taken."

That made sense.

"Why do you think that Rollins didn't pick up on it?" I asked him.

Because Rollins had sent us the autopsy report.

Would he have really sent us information on his case without even glancing at it?

Without recognizing that something was different?

I had a few cases that had rolled over to the cold case files. Ones that I'd never been able to solve. And I knew every detail in each of those files because I'd read over it so many times.

If someone suddenly wanted to look over one of my old cases, wouldn't I look over the information first?

Well, maybe I'd just answered my own question.

Would I look over the file itself, or would I be able to see every detail so vividly in my mind that actually looking at the papers would be unnecessary?

"I wonder what happened to Rollins' old partner," I mused as I decided that maybe it wasn't so strange for Rollins not to have caught the discrepancies.

"I don't even remember the file referencing a partner," Bobby said.

And that was odd, because I didn't either. Detectives worked together, and both names were always somewhere in the file, even if only one did the bulk of the paperwork.

"Let's go check it out," I replied.

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

I was secretly pleased that Mike and Carolyn were headed to New York to help out Lupo and Bernard.

Not that I'd wanted them to cut their vacation short. Obviously I didn't want that.

But since they were…

It would really help to ease my mind about the hit.

And it wasn't that I didn't trust Lupo.

I did.

But right now it was just him and Bernard, and the money was still nowhere to be found, so having extra hands would only help to speed up the process.

Alex and I went back into the conference room to find Mary and John talking amiably.

"Who was the original detective along with Rollins?" Alex asked Mary.

I crossed the room and reached for the evidence box while Mary answered after a moment of consideration.

"Detective Lovell. Eric Lovell. He should be in the file, right?"

"No," Alex answered, looking to me for confirmation. I had the reports from the investigating officers in my hand, and nowhere was Lovell's name mentioned.

Only Rollins.

"His name's been removed," I stated.

"What does that mean?" John asked.

"It could mean a lot of things," Mary said. "But we should probably ask Rollins about it."

"Why not just ask Lovell?"

"Well, his name was removed for a reason," Alex added. "We need to find out why. If it was so that we wouldn't know that he was involved in the investigation, and he's assuming that no one would remember him, then…he's not just going to cop to it. Rollins seems to be a stand-up guy though, don't you think? I mean, a little bit defensive, but all in all okay, right?"

She looked at Mary as she asked the question and received an answering nod.

"So Rollins isn't on your radar at all. What about Lovell?" I asked Mary. "Do you remember much about him?"

"I…yeah. I guess," she said. "Some. He played ball."

"Did he know the truth?"

"No, but he didn't question anything. Rollins questioned everything."

"To what end?" I asked her. "Did his captain make him quit the investigation?"

"Ultimately, yes. He kept pushing it, saying that the mugging theory didn't fit."

"That's what _I _said," John added.

"Right," Mary agreed. "He went to bat for you, John. He didn't like that answer, but his captain finally insisted that he let it go."

"So Rollins is a good guy. Okay, we need to separate him and Keyes."

"What do you think about Keyes?" Mary challenged.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But someone added those details to the autopsy report before sending it to us. Details that would spark our interest and inspire a full-on investigation."

"And you think it's him?"

"So do you," Alex retorted. "You tell us why we're right."

"We've got a notifier installed on Heidi's file. We know when people are looking. Keyes has been into it a few times recently," she admitted. "That's why we started taking a closer look at him. And he found that ballistics match, which never should've been found. After he made that connection, I ran a full report on him."

"And?"

"And he has too much money."

"What else?" I asked.

It had to be more than that. She'd been sure enough to follow Keyes from the police department last night.

"The bust that made his career, the one that got him detective. It was a drug bust. He logged in twenty-three pounds of mile high, and cuffed two major runners."

"How does that make him look suspicious?" Alex asked, echoing my exact thought.

If I'd known that before, it would've made me look in the other direction because that should've meant that he was in Valero's crosshairs, not on his payroll.

"On the way to the station, he got jacked," she said.

"A cop got jacked?" John asked. "How does that work?"

"According to Keyes, two black SUVs cut him off, forcing him to stop on a lonely stretch of road. They held him and his partner at gunpoint, forced them to let the runners out of the back, and they took custody of the coke."

"And then what?" I asked incredulously.

"Keyes' partner was killed. Keyes was shot and left for dead."

"Okay, still..." Alex questioned. "Wouldn't that mean that they'd keep coming after him?"

"_Left for dead_ was Keyes' description," Mary clarified. "His partner was shot in the head. Twice. Keyes was shot in the arm."

"So he sold out to Valero," I stated.

It was the only explanation. Keyes had begged for his life and then promised to be Valero's eyes and ears in the department.

"So Valero gets arrested for killing Cortez, and that's when he starts getting worried about his future in the drug business. He remembers Heidi as probably the only one who could or would testify against him, and he uses his favor with Keyes to see if he can find out whether she's alive or not. And if she is, then he's going to try to kill her for real this time. Does that about sum it up?" John asked.

"I think you've got a knack for this, John," Mary said with a wry smile. "That's exactly where we are. So what's next?"

She looked at me and Alex when she said this, and I appreciated the respect that she was offering us.

"We want to talk to Rollins without Keyes around," Alex said. "Which will be harder than it sounds."

"What if I help?" John asked.

"No," Mary said quickly.

"Don't say no until you hear my idea."

"I don't have to hear it," she fired back. "You're not law enforcement. You're not an investigator. You stay in the hotel."

"Okay, so I'm a civilian, which also means that you can't tell me where I can and cannot go," he retorted. "If I want to walk into the Denver Police Station and ask to speak to Detective Keyes, you aren't exactly authorized to stop me."

I caught Alex's eye over their heads as they continued to bicker. She smirked at me, and I bit back a grin.

We let them go at it for another couple of minutes, and then Alex cleared her throat.

"If you two are done arguing, we thought that maybe you'd like to hear our idea."

"What?" Mary asked crossly, clearly unused to not getting her way in this type of situation.

And I guess she did always get her way, because she usually dealt with people who were contracted to do as she told them.

"We'll go to the station with John," I said, picking up Alex's thread. "We'll work it out so that he's left alone with Keyes."

"And then you can tell him that we've got a lead," Alex said, looking at John. "And that we're pretty sure that Heidi's alive."

"Fine," Mary groused. "What the hell? Why don't you just let him tell Keyes that Heidi's living in Denver?"

"That's kind of what I was thinking," I said, even though I knew that she'd been being a smartass. "Let's keep it simple. And the theory that you guys would hide her here makes sense. It's like hiding in plain sight."

"No. No it doesn't make sense," she argued. "We would never ever do that."

"But they don't know that," Alex said. "And if it's John dropping the information, Keyes won't be suspicious."

"So you think Keyes will tell Valero, and get his orders, and then keep a tail on you two until you lead him to Heidi."

"It's worth a shot, don't you think?"

"I think…" Mary began slowly, and I was sure that she was going to dig in her heels. "That it just might work."

But then she turned to John and added, "But just because you win this one, doesn't mean that you'll win them all. And you stay in the police department."

"I got it," he said.

"I mean it," she continued. "If he wants to go for a ride, take you to buy ice cream, or show you a puppy that he says he has in the back of his van, I don't care. You don't leave that building."

"I _got_ it," John said again.

She sat back in her chair and shook her head.

"I don't like this."

"What's the worst that could happen?" John asked innocently.

Alex and I looked at each other, and then at Mary, who appeared ready to spout off a long lists of possible scenarios.

"We'll be _fine_," I said quickly before she could speak. "We'll go to the police station, John will plant the seed, and while he's talking to him, Alex and I will get to Rollins. And you'll be outside listening to everything."

"Lord help us all," Mary mumbled.

TBC...


	30. Chapter 30

**Lupo POV**

* * *

I was stoked that Mike was coming back.

I mean, I hated that they'd cut their trip short, but considering that he'd assured me that all was copasetic, then I was just glad that they'd be back.

Because Carolyn was smart.

Wicked smart.

And Mike was different smart.

Crazy smart.

So between the two of them, very damn little went unnoticed.

And seriously, I could use all of the help I could get with this.

Because things were moving slowly, and I really, _really_ wanted to have it cleared up before Alex got back to Manhattan.

Connie called me as I was heading into 1PP.

"Mike says you called."

"I did. He's answering your phone again, huh?"

Of course, this time, I was only teasing.

"I was in chambers," she said quickly.

"I know," I told her, suddenly feeling bad for giving a hard time. I wasn't jealous. Not anymore, anyway. "He told me."

"What can I do for you?"

"Nothing," I told her. "He's taking care of it."

"He's what?" she asked in surprise.

"Yeah, I know," I laughed. "I told him that I was in desperate need of a quickie at lunch and he said that he'd hook me up…"

"Lupo!"

But she laughed along with me despite her supposed outrage.

"Nah, he's getting me a search warrant. And a tap."

"For the hit thing? Where are you with that?"

So I filled her in on the latest.

"The Logans are coming back?"

"Yeah, at midnight. I'm going to meet them at their house at one."

"Is Bernard going with you?"

"Probably, but I haven't talked to him yet."

"I'll come."

"Don't you have opening arguments in the morning?"

"I've done more on less sleep," she assured me.

"Okay," I conceded.

Because really, the thought of leaving her alone in the bed in the middle of the night was in no way appealing.

Her, by my side, was always preferable. Or at least it was when I wasn't heading into a dangerous situation.

"So Mike is getting you what you need?" she asked dubiously.

"He should be calling me back any minute. You two don't talk when you're in the office?"

"I have my own desk," she reminded me firmly. "And he has an office."

"Yeah. Okay," I replied casually. "So when Cutter calls, I'll be going over to Arcadia."

"The strip club?"

"April and Candi both have lockers there," I reminded her. "I need to find that money."

"Okay. Let me know how it goes."

"I will," I told her. And then, because I could, I added, "I love you."

"I know," she said softly. "Me, too."

And I didn't blame her for not saying it back. I mean, she was in the office. I was alone.

Would I have said it if Bernard was sitting beside me?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

Okay, probably not.

I went upstairs and sat down at my desk to begin another perusal through the coffee-stained phone records.

And then I had a thought.

What if there was another middle man? What if one of the numbers that Candi or April had called actually belonged to the person who had _then_ called the hit man?

It was a valid consideration. It was certainly one way of covering tracks.

A veritable reverse phone tree.

I needed to get organized.

So, I got started on the daunting task of putting names and addresses, along with arrest records if applicable, to each and every number dialed by Candi and April over the course of the past two weeks.

Forty minutes later, when Cutter finally called, I had barely made a dent, and I had a fucking migraine.

"It's about goddamn time," I grumbled.

"The wheels of justice turn slowly," he replied, seemingly unaffected by my mood.

Which was good, because I had no business taking out my mood on him anyway.

"Am I good to check the lockers?"

"You're clear. But only the ones specifically designated for Candi Ayers and April Lieszak."

"I hear you," I said as I shoved my paperwork into a stack and headed for the elevator.

"Nothing else," he admonished. "Or it'll be tossed. The judge was very specific."

"I know how to execute a damn search warrant," I said crossly.

"Detective…"

"Yeah," I sighed. He was helping me, and I was taking out my frustration on him. "Yeah, sorry. I got it. Just two lockers."

"The wire tap is in the works. Call me when you're done and I should have it ready," he told me.

"Thanks."

I hung up with him and left 1PP in a hurry.

Would the money be there, still waiting to be given to the man who was supposed to kill Alex?

Or had it already been paid, guaranteeing that every effort would be made to fulfill the hit?

I called Bernard as I drove towards Arcadia.

"Are you still there?" I asked him when I once again heard loud music in the background.

"Yeah. Guess who showed up."

"Who?"

"Candi. She made bail."

"What?"

I was incredulous.

What judge in their right mind would grant her bail?

She was currently on probation after serving only thirty days for assault, and the charges pending against her included smuggling contraband to a prisoner and pulling a weapon on two police officers.

"I know, Lupes. Me and Cap were in the car getting ready to leave when she got here. We came back in. I figured she wouldn't try to do a grab-n-run if she knew that we were sitting on the place. So'd you get the warrant?"

"Yeah, I'm on my way."

I tossed the phone down in disgust and then thought better of it and nearly wrecked while trying to retrieve it.

"Rubirosa," she answered.

"Candi made bail. How in the hell does that happen?"

"I don't know. I wasn't there for the hearing."

"Can you find out? Can you get it revoked? Shit, Connie, she's an integral part of a hit attempt. How in the world…"

"I know," she interrupted firmly. "I'll get it. Give me half an hour."

I tossed my phone toward the seat again, this time not caring where it landed.

Twenty minutes later, I pulled into a parking spot near Arcadia on two wheels.

But my rush was all for naught.

Both lockers were empty.

"Who's been in here?" I asked the handful of girls who had gathered to witness the search.

Ross was standing next to me while Bernard was still up front keeping an eye on Candi. So far, she'd given no indication as to her purpose for coming into Arcadia, but my suspicion was through the roof.

None of the girls would admit to seeing anyone in either locker.

But both were _completely_ empty.

I mean, nothing. Not a hair brush. Make-up. Change of clothes.

Nothing.

And why would they be empty?

Both women had expected to come back to work, so it made no sense.

I slammed the locker door closed and stormed out to the front.

Candi was standing at the bar having a drink. Bernard was in a booth near the door, but when he saw me making a beeline for her, he jumped up in an effort to intercept.

"Where is it?" I shouted. "What did you do with it?"

"Fuck you, Detective," she said with an icy smile.

I closed in on her personal space, ignoring the feel of Bernard's hand on my shoulder.

"What did you do with the other ten grand?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Lupes…"

"The money you stole from this place!" I yelled, outing her to her colleagues. "You robbed your boss to pay for a hit man. Did you pay him yet? Or are you still hiding the money?"

I continued to crowd her, getting nearly nose to nose with her as I'd said the words.

"Detective!"

That was Ross.

And yeah, I was losing the handle on my temper, but what did he think I was going to do? Hit her?

I don't hit women. Period.

And me ratting her out, well…she deserved that.

"I don't have the fucking money," Candi shouted back at me.

"Where is it? What did you do with it?"

"I gave it to April, okay? Why don't you go threaten her, and leave me the hell alone!"

"You think I'm threatening you? If I was going to do that I'd tell you that I've got an ADA working on revoking your bail right now. I'd tell you that your minutes of freedom are limited because any second, I'm going to get the call that says I can arrest your ass, and take you back to jail. How's that for a threat?"

Bernard pulled harder on my shoulder, and I felt another hand on my other shoulder. A quick glance told me that it was a bouncer.

"Back off," Ross told the bouncer as he showed him his badge. "This is police business."

"I don't think so," the bouncer said. "You boys need to step off."

Another, even larger, bouncer joined the fray.

"Detectives, I think you all need to leave the premises," he stated.

"Did April make a down payment?" I asked Candi, ignoring the others. I couldn't let this opportunity go. I really needed to get her to fess up before she went back to jail and the protection of her close-lipped lawyer. "Did she pay the goombah to kill Alex Goren?"

The hand, the one _not_ belonging to Bernard, tightened on my shoulder, and I turned to warn off the bouncer, but Bernard stepped closer to him and gave him a slight shove to get him off of me.

As I turned back to Candi, I took a punch to the jaw.

And that was all it took for all hell to break loose.

Ross grabbed Candi to arrest her for hitting me, and the bigger of the two bouncers came after him, so I tackled the guy from behind, taking him down to the ground. He'd tried to grab the bar to stop his fall, but he only succeeded in taking down a tray of drinks with him, so glass shattered all around us.

In the mean time, Bernard had his hands full trying to subdue the other guy. He managed to keep him away from me and Ross, but then the bartender came over and whacked Ross on the head with a tray in an effort to keep him from handcuffing Candi.

When that happened, Bernard drew his gun.

"Get your ass over here," he said to the bartender. "What the hell is wrong with you? You just hit a police captain!"

I had to assume that Bernard had the smaller bouncer and the bartender under control, because I couldn't risk a glance. I was sprawled out on top of the larger bouncer trying to hold him still, and it was like I was riding a damn bull in a rodeo.

My hands were bloody from the glass, and my face was throbbing from the punch, and I was afraid that maybe I'd cracked a rib during the tackle, so I was extremely grateful when I heard the click of Ross' gun.

"Settle down, Cujo, and let the detective put the cuffs on you," he said firmly as he moved around to the front of us so that the guy beneath me could see that he now had a gun pointed at his head.

I was finally able to relax my grip and get out my cuffs. I slapped them forcefully onto the guy's wrists and then slowly got to my feet.

Candi was cuffed, as was the bartender, and Bernard had both of them at gunpoint. The other bouncer had seen the situation as an unwise career move, so he had stepped off to the side and out of the way.

"You okay?" Ross asked me.

Yeah. I was great. I was bruised and bloody and smelled like cheap liquor.

And of course, that was when I heard her voice.

"Lupo?"

It was Connie. I turned toward the door, and saw her approach the scene. She had two uniformed officers with her.

"What the hell happened in here?" she asked.

"What are you doing here?" I countered.

"I got Candi's bail revoked. You can take her into custody," she said as she looked in confusion at the trio of people who were handcuffed. "Although it looks like you already did."

"Assault," I told her. "You can add it to her charges."

"Assault all the way around," Ross said to the two uniforms. "Take them all in for processing."

The officers led the three perps away, so I took another step closer to Connie.

"You need to get checked out," she told me when she noticed the blood still flowing from a cut on my hand.

"You didn't just come here for that," I said, deflecting her concern.

"I did," she said. "You weren't answering your phone, and I was afraid that maybe things were getting heated over here. I called Anita and she had the officers meet me here."

"Oh, sorry. I…um…tossed my phone in the car."

"We need to do something about that temper," she said lightly.

"That's what I was going to say," Ross said as he joined us. "What was that about, Lupo?"

"Cap, she knows," I insisted. "Candi knows exactly what the hell is going on here."

"How's your head, Cap?" Bernard asked, and I was glad that he was shifting the focus off of me.

Because yeah, I had gotten a little worked up with her, but still…I didn't start this shit.

Candi sucker punched me, and then the bouncer had to get into it, and the bartender…it really wasn't my fault.

"I've been hit harder," Ross said dryly.

"Probably by the doc, huh Cap?" Bernard laughed.

Ross couldn't keep from smiling at Bernard's joke, and the tension of the moment was over.

"Get checked out, calm yourself down, and then take another run at April," Ross said.

Connie's phone buzzed, and she checked the display, and then spoke up.

"You might not need to talk to April," she said. "Cutter got your tap."

TBC...


	31. Chapter 31

**Liz POV**

* * *

I'd settled down from my earlier annoyance by throwing myself into my work.

I had a body on the table, and another one waiting, so there wasn't really any time for me to throw a tantrum over not getting to exhume a body.

But it didn't keep me from pondering the cause for Alex's call.

Why wouldn't they want me to look?

She and Bobby were nothing if not thorough. They would never take someone at their word, not about something like this.

So they really must have decided that they didn't _need_ to look.

But _why_ wouldn't they need to? Unless…

My thoughts were interrupted by guests in my morgue.

Danny and Detective Lupo.

"Gentlemen, what a nice…" I began, and then I saw that Lupo was bleeding. And his face had fresh swelling. "Ah, so not a social call, I see."

I stepped back from the autopsy table and pulled off my gloves.

"Come," I said with a shake of my head. "Sit."

"I'm fine," Lupo said obstinately as I pulled the handkerchief away from his hand.

"Oh, yeah, I can see that," I told him. "That piece of glass is supposed to be lodged in between your fingers, and it's normal for you to be bleeding like that."

"He got cracked on the head with a wooden tray," Lupo spouted out when Danny chuckled at my assessment.

"What?" I asked, turning quickly to look at my husband.

"I've got a hard head," he said after glaring at Lupo. "But I will grab some ice. I'll be right back."

"What happened?" I asked Lupo while I began cleaning his hand with antiseptic.

"Melee at a strip club," he said with a shrug.

"You have trouble with strippers, don't you?" I asked him with a grin. "You realize that you reek of Old Times bourbon, right?"

"Old Times," he laughed. "You know your cheap liquor."

"I couldn't always afford the good stuff," I chuckled. Then I picked up a pair of tweezers and bent down to get a closer look at the shard in his hand. "This is going to hurt."

"Just do it."

"Okay," I answered skeptically.

I grabbed the glass with the instrument, and tugged it out. It had been nearly an inch deep in the webbing between his middle and ring fingers, but he didn't even flinch.

"A tough guy, huh?" I mumbled as I examined the fresh rush of blood. "You're going to need some stitches here. I can do it, but it might not be pretty. My patients don't usually care about scars."

"I'm not exactly pretty anyway, Rodgers. I don't think another scar is going to change much."

"Don't sell yourself short, Detective," I said as I gathered the needed supplies. "A lot of women like the rugged look."

"Rugged?" he asked with a grin. "Is that what you'd call me?"

"A hothead is what I'd call you," Danny said as he came back into the room. "I don't think I like this new friendship you have with Logan. He's rubbing off on you."

"Let me guess," I said. "You started the brawl."

"I was trying to get information," he clarified. "And I might have stood a little too close to a stripper. And then the bouncers had to get involved."

"Is that who hit you?" I asked, gesturing towards his face.

"No, that was the stripper," Danny corrected with a grin.

"Who got you?" I asked him.

"The bartender."

"A _woman_ bartender," Lupo elaborated.

"It was a wooden tray. How hard do you think she had to swing it to cause some damage?" Danny asked defensively.

Although I could tell that he was just giving Lupo a hard time, and I was happy to see that he seemed to be enjoying his detectives now rather than being adversarial with them.

"You took a punch from a girl and nearly went down," he continued.

"I seem to remember a time…" I began.

"Liz," Danny interrupted in a warning tone. But Lupo caught my intent, and jumped on it immediately.

"You've gotta tell now, Rodgers," he encouraged. "So the cap got knocked out by a girl?"

"It was Alex," I told him in a mock-whisper. "Knocked him flat on his ass, and from what I hear, he was out for a couple of minutes."

"From one punch?" Lupo asked in surprise.

"You don't think Alex could take you out?" Danny asked.

"I don't think I'm crazy enough to make her mad," Lupo countered, still chuckling despite the fact that I was poking at the wound on his hand.

"I didn't make her mad," Danny told him. "I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"I don't have any anesthetic," I warned Lupo. "I don't suppose you managed to drink any of that Old Times?"

"I'm good. Go ahead," he told me.

So I stitched him up.

And I did a pretty nice job, if I may say so myself. I was able to align the jagged edges of skin properly, and I used simple interrupted stitches at the appropriate angle in an effort to minimize scarring.

"You do good work, Doc," he told me casually, as though I hadn't just been jabbing a needle into his hand.

"Thanks. Have you had a tetanus shot recently?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

The location of his cut was in an awkward position, so it was tough to bandage but I managed to get him fixed up.

"How's your head?" I asked Danny when I'd finished.

"Better," he told me, but I removed the ice pack and felt for the bump. It was there, about the size of an egg.

"A lump is good," I told him. "A whack with no swelling is actually much worse. Do you have a headache?"

"Yeah," he replied with a roll of his eyes toward Lupo. "But I don't think it has anything to do with getting hit."

**

* * *

**

Lupo POV

Ross sent me home after we left the morgue.

Bernard had filed the paperwork to have April released from jail, but we were told that it was going to take a couple of hours.

"I'll put a couple of officers at the club," Ross told me. "They can listen to the activity on the phone."

"Can we put a couple on April, too?" I asked him.

"Absolutely. And when she gets out, I'll give you a call. Bernard, too."

"Thanks, Cap."

"And Detective," Ross said.

_Here it comes_. The verbal reprimand.

"Yeah, Cap?"

"Thanks for taking down that bouncer at the club."

I deflected his praise with a smile and wave, and then I headed for the courthouse.

Connie had gone back there after getting Ross' word that he'd get a doctor to look at my hand.

And just because Ross had said to go home, that didn't mean that I _literally_ had to go home.

On my way to the courthouse, I checked in with Bernard.

"Ross said you handled the paperwork?"

"I did," he told me. "How's your hand?"

"Rodgers stitched me up," I said. "Cap sent me home until things heat up. You, too."

"I am on my way out the door right now," he assured me. "Date number four."

"Four dates with the same woman?" I teased. "I find that very hard to believe. Have you been drugging her?"

"Now Lupes, you _know_ I do just fine with the ladies."

"Yeah, I do. La_dies_, as in plural, as in rarely the same one twice in a row."

"Are you jealous that I'm a player?" he laughed. "While you're stuck night after night with the same woman?"

"Be a player, my friend," I told him, shaking my head even though he couldn't see me. "I am perfectly happy with the same woman every night."

And I was.

Things were going really well between us. So well, in fact, that I was sort of expecting something to go wrong. Relationships had not necessarily been my strong suit.

But I _wanted_ it to work with Connie.

I was committed to having a successful, adult relationship.

And man, did that sound a whole lot like marriage.

That thought caused my footsteps to falter as I walked through the lobby of the courthouse.

_Marriage_?

I was getting ahead of myself.

"Lupo?"

I turned and saw Connie coming down a side hall.

And it just hit me.

I _would_ like to be married to her.

Not right now.

But one of these days.

Because I didn't want to imagine my life without her in it.

"What are you doing here? How's your hand?"

"I'm fine," I told her. I walked with her to stand next to a large column out of the way of the flow of pedestrian traffic. "Ross sent me home for a few hours while things are in a lull."

"To cool off?"

"No. Well, maybe. He's not mad, though. I did save him from being steamrolled by that bouncer."

"You were pretty riled up," she reminded me.

"She _knows_," I said forcefully, my annoyance building again at the mere thought of Candi.

_The woman knows what the hell is going on and is just choosing not to tell me_.

"You're getting mad just thinking about it."

"I…yes, I am," I admitted. "There could be a guy out there right now with Alex's picture in one hand and a sniper rifle in the other."

"You'll find him," she said. "You're good at what you do."

"Yeah," I agreed slowly as I ran my good hand through my hair. "Yeah, I'll find him. But I'm going to work off some of this frustration first."

And I hadn't meant that as a suggestion.

In fact, when I said it, I'd planned on going by the gym and spending an hour or so with a punching bag. Even going at it one-handed would have to help.

But Connie quirked an eyebrow at me and gave me a smile before checking her watch.

"I didn't take a lunch yet," she told me.

It was going on three o'clock.

"So…"

"Give me a minute," she said as she pulled out her phone.

It actually only took her thirty seconds to tell Cutter that she was going to take a late lunch before returning to the office to work on tomorrow's opening statement.

"Are you sure you have the time?" I asked her.

"Come on," she told me as she tucked her arm through mine. "Let's go work off some of that energy."

And okay, so her method was much better than mine.

I could've beaten the crap out of that punching bag for two hours and still been angry because while I punched, I would've likely been thinking about the case.

While Connie held me captive in the bed with my own handcuffs, I thought of nothing except what she was doing to me.

Ninety minutes later, I ignored the pain in my rib as I struggled to catch my breath.

Maybe I ought to've gotten an x-ray, because right now every time my lungs expanded to take in air, it felt like I had a knife in my chest.

But I didn't want to worry Connie, so I didn't say anything about it.

Besides, she had done what she'd set out to do. She had successfully rid me of my headache and my tension.

"Feeling better?" she asked smugly as she used the key to unlock the cuffs. She'd said that the cuffs would help keep me from re-injuring my hand, but I think she just likes to be in control.

"I haven't felt this good since…"

"Lunch yesterday?" she asked.

"That's what I was thinking," I replied with a grin.

I wrapped my arms around her, wanting to touch her after having been deprived of that sensation. Of course, my hand was throbbing, but that didn't keep me from trailing my fingers down her back.

"So what's next?" she asked as she settled against me.

"You have to go back to work. And I'm going to check in with the officers keeping an eye on April."

"You don't trust them to call?"

The words were barely out of her mouth when my cell rang.

"Lupo," I answered.

"It's Ross. April's in a taxi headed downtown. We've got a tail on her, but I wanted to give you the heads up."

I sat up in the bed and reached for my pants.

"I'm going over to Arcadia," I told him. "I'm betting that'll be her next stop after she goes home. I'll call Bernard."

"Just listen, Detective," he instructed. "We don't need another brawl."

"I promise. I'll just sit in the car and listen."

I hung up with him and finished getting dressed. Connie worked quickly, too, putting herself back together to put in a few more hours at the office.

"April's out?" she asked me.

"Uh huh. You know, Candi said that she gave April the money, but I don't know if I believe her or not. Candi went to Arcadia today for a reason."

"What do you think it is?"

"I think that the money is in that club somewhere."

"So you don't think they've paid it yet."

"No. Well, I don't know," I admitted. "But I'm hoping that April goes in there to get on that payphone. That's our best bet right now for finding out what the hell is going on."

TBC...


	32. Chapter 32

**Mary POV**

* * *

I sat in a car down the street from the police station.

Marshall's flight from New York had been canceled because of the snow storm, but I couldn't help but wish that I had him with me.

And that was unusual for me because I rarely wished for help from anyone.

But today, I was going to have to listen to two conversations, so two sets of ears would've been helpful.

I mean, I was _recording_ both conversations, but still…I needed to listen, too. In case they needed me.

Although if anyone needed me it would probably be John. He was going in to bamboozle Keyes. And I was pretty sure that Keyes was bought and paid for by Valero, which meant that he had a lot to lose.

Which in turn made him dangerous.

The Gorens were going to be chatting up Rollins. It was possible that he was involved but unlikely. And even if he was on the take, I wasn't really concerned for their safety.

They were armed.

And half of _they_ was Alex.

Now that's not to say that Bobby wasn't a serious consideration. He most definitely was. He was six-four, two hundred some pounds and would probably be able to easily overpower Rollins if the need arose.

And he'd been just as quick as Alex to draw on me in the stairwell.

And Alex was right.

They _did_ have the drop on me. I might have played it cool, but I was sweating over that situation. If they'd been on the wrong side, I might've been in some trouble.

But the thing I'd noticed with Bobby is that he seemed to prefer not to use physical force. And maybe it's because of his size. Maybe he's afraid that he'll hurt someone more than he intends. I can appreciate that. It's actually a very attractive quality.

But Alex was another story entirely.

Because she was the type to kick ass now and ask questions later.

Maybe that's why the two of them made such a good team, working and otherwise.

Whatever the case, I liked her a lot.

She was my type. As a cop, I mean.

I don't mean to say that she was my type in any _other_ sense. Because I do tend to stick to the male persuasion.

But basically, my only hard and fast rules are to go for someone absolutely wrong for me who was also completely unavailable.

What can I say?

I have a self-destructive streak a mile wide.

I mean, look what I did with Rafe. I had someone who loved me and by all appearances was the perfect man. And I ran him off because I couldn't commit. But if I'm honest with myself, I don't really miss Rafe. And if I don't miss him, then I must not have really loved him.

If I continue to be honest with myself, I _am_ attracted to John, and not just because of that whole smooth-talking, good-looking, great-smile thing he's got going on.

It's probably more because of the fact that he was absolutely, perfectly, _completely_ unavailable.

And I don't mean unavailable like Bobby is unavailable. If I even entertained that thought for more than a second, my body would end up floating in the Colorado River.

Of that, I have no doubt.

I mean unavailable in the emotional sense. In the _commitment_ sense.

John was in no way, shape, or form ready for any type of relationship at the moment. Instead, he seemed to have the same penchant I did for choosing a person with whom he would be in no danger of having to follow up. Or follow through.

Oh, he'd be available for a memorable night or two, but after that, I'd go my way and he'd go his.

And that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

_Was it_?

As long as I waited until this case was over, right?

So when I told him _no way_, I didn't really mean it.

And after that kiss today, I definitely didn't mean it. Because even though the kiss had been brief and innocent, it still had sent a tingling feeling down into my toes.

And it had piqued my interest.

It made me want to know what more he could do if he actually put a little effort into it.

"_**Yes?"**_

It was John, making sure that I could hear him.

And for the love of God, I needed to get my head in the game. This was what happened when I went two weeks without sex. It made my mind wander to places it didn't need to be going.

I picked up the mike on my right side and responded.

"I've got you."

"_**Me, too?"**_

That was Alex. She was miked up, too, and I had the corresponding com device on my left side.

"You're good," I told her.

"_**Tell me something I don't know,"**_ she joked.

Yeah, I liked her.

If we lived in the same half of the country, we'd likely be friends.

John, Alex, and Bobby were all currently walking through the front doors of the police station, so I kicked back and settled in for the wait. It would likely take at least an hour or so to set the trap.

"_**I wondered if you two were going to come in today. Late night?"**_

Ew. That Keyes guy was just smarmy. Was he really suggesting what I thought he was suggesting when he barely even knew the Gorens?

"_**No,"**_ Alex said sharply with unmasked annoyance. "_**Detective Keyes, this is John Strathmore."**_

"_**Oh, great to meet you. We're working hard to solve your wife's murder."**_

"_**Fiancé."**_

"_**I'm sorry?"**_

"_**She was my fiancé. Not my wife."**_

"_**Oh, right, right**_," Keyes said dismissively. _**"A great couple of investigators you hired. They picked up on an autopsy discrepancy already."**_

"_**We did?" **_

That was Bobby.

"_**Yeah, well…didn't you?"**_

_Don't push him,_ I thought. _You'll scare him away…_

"_**Actually, we did,"**_ Bobby said amicably. _**"We've called Dr. Stern to discuss it."**_

"_**Great. Let me know if I can help."**_

I heard the sound of footsteps on stairs, and then Alex mumbled, _**"We're off to hell."**_

"Oh come on, Alex. It's not that bad is it?" I asked her.

"_**Yesterday it was nearly ninety degrees," **_Bobby said.

"_**And today it's…"**_

Alex quit talking as I heard a door creak open.

"It's what?"

"_**It's more like twenty,"**_ John said.

"_**Fucking Rollins,"**_ Alex muttered. _**"He might not be dirty but he's still a dick."**_

I chuckled at her as I listened to them get settled in the apparently freezing room.

"_**Twenty bucks says Keyes shows up within ten minutes,"**_ Alex said.

"_**What is it with you and monetary bets?"**_ Bobby laughed at her.

"_**What else do you bet?"**_ John asked, and even though my mind had gone straight into the gutter, his question sounded innocent enough. _**"Who has to do the dishes or the laundry?"**_

"_**Yes,"**_ Alex said, while at the same time Bobby said,_** "No."**_

Those two were fun. They sure knew how to ease the tension of a situation.

"Okay, kids," I teased. "Let's get down to business. Was Rollins at his desk?"

"_**Yeah, I saw him,"**_ Bobby said. _**"He didn't look up when we came through. He's not interested in the investigation."**_

"Which almost makes him suspicious, doesn't it?" I suggested. "I mean, doesn't it bug you when someone is looking at one of your old cases?"

"_**Yeah,"**_ Alex agreed_**. "I'd want to be involved, even if it was only to check in periodically."**_

"_**Now, when Keyes shows up,"**_ Bobby said to John, _**"Alex and I are going to leave the room. We'll go find Rollins, but you need to keep him in here, keep him talking. I don't want him coming out there and finding out that we're confiding in Rollins."**_

"_**I got it,"**_ John said.

And I hoped that he did, because it was only three minutes later when I heard Keyes voice.

"_**Any luck with Dr. Stern?"**_ he asked cheerfully.

"I don't know what you bet, Bobby, but I'd say you just lost," I said quietly.

"_**We're waiting on a callback,"**_ Alex responded, but I could tell from her tone that she was biting back a smile. _**"I see that someone was able to fix that radiator."**_

"_**Yeah, it is a little bit chilly in here today, isn't it?"**_

"_**A little bit,"**_ she agreed. _**"Hey, Bobby, where is that statement that we got from the FBI guy yesterday?"**_

"_**What statement?"**_ Keyes asked.

"_**It's in the box,"**_ Bobby said to Alex, ignoring Keyes.

"_**It's not in the box,"**_ Alex retorted. _**"I'm looking in the box. If it were in here, then I wouldn't have had to ask you where it was."**_

"_**Then you must have put it somewhere. Because I put it in there."**_

"_**I didn't have it out. You were the one who was reading over it. Damn it, Bobby, I told you not to pull everything out while we were in the car."**_

"_**I'll go get it."**_

"_**No, I'll go," **_Alex snapped back.

And wow, was she good at staging a fight. I wondered if this was how they really acted at home together, but I seriously doubted it.

They each had too much respect for the other to be so childish and quick-tempered.

"_**I said I'd go, okay?"**_

I heard Alex let out a long-suffering sigh.

"_**Excuse us for just a minute,"**_ she said apologetically.

I heard footsteps, and then a door slam.

"_**Okay, we're out,"**_ Alex said quietly.

I switched my focus to John for the time being.

"_**Wow, are they like that all of the time?"**_ Keyes asked John.

"_**I think this case is getting to them,"**_ John told him.

"_**Why is that?"**_

"_**Well, a ten year old murder case…conflicting evidence…lack of local support…oh, no offense intended."**_

"_**None taken. I realize that Detective Rollins has been a little…icy." **_

"_**I know that you've been trying to help. I really appreciate that."**_

"_**My pleasure. I mean, that's what we're here for, right?"**_

"Oh please," I muttered softly. "This guy makes me want to throw up."

"_**Yes, exactly,"**_ John replied quickly, and I chuckled at the realization that he was responding to my flippant remark.

"_**So this statement that Alex was talking about…"**_ Keyes said encouragingly. _**"The FBI actually spoke with them yesterday?"**_

"Take it slow," I said. "And act like you don't really understand what it all means."

"_**Yeah. Something about an arrest that was expunged? I'm not sure."**_

"_**The FBI erased an arrest? Huh."**_

"_**Well, you gave them that lead, right?" **_

"_**Yeah, I just…I didn't realize,"**_ Keyes said innocently. _**"I just found out that the document was missing from what Rollins gave them. As though maybe he didn't want them to know."**_

_Yeah, good Keyes,_ I thought. _Throw another partner under the bus._

"_**You think Rollins is trying to deliberately mislead them?"**_ John asked.

"_**I think…that maybe things happened on this case…that people don't want to talk about. What do you think?"**_

"He's opened the door, John. Go ahead."

"_**I think that maybe she's not really dead,"**_ John said quietly. _**"I heard Bobby say the same thing to Alex, but they're not admitting it to me yet."**_

"_**They think she's alive? Why?"**_

"_**The evidence doesn't add up. Everything was either fabricated or has disappeared."**_

"_**Huh,"**_ Keyes said thoughtfully.

"Pull out the big guns," I told John.

"_**And do you know what else?"**_

"_**What?"**_

"_**The day after the Gorens started on this case, a U.S. Marshal showed up at their door."**_

"_**Why?"**_

"_**To ask them to stop."**_

"_**So she's in the Witness Protection Program,"**_ Keyes said triumphantly.

"_**That's the theory. But once they're sure, we'll have to quit. I mean, if she is, then it's important that we leave her hidden, right?"**_

"_**Or…no, never mind."**_

He thought he was being so slick, trying to reel John in. I couldn't imagine that it would ever actually work.

Well, if we didn't want it to, I mean.

"_**Or what?"**_ John asked, doing an excellent job of playing the role of the clueless, curious loved one.

"_**Or maybe they find her and keep it on the down low,"**_ Keyes suggested in a hushed tone. _**"I mean, don't you want to see her again?" **_

"_**Of course."**_

"_**Then what would it hurt? As long as you don't publicize it or anything. I mean really…who'll know?"**_

"Keyes, you arrogant little bastard," I mumbled. "I will have your badge if it's the last thing I do."

"_**You're right,"**_ John said to Keyes. _**"I'll talk to the Gorens."**_

"_**What's to talk about? **_**You**_** hired **_**them**_**, right?"**_

I switched my focus to Alex now that I knew that John had successfully laid the trap for Keyes.

"_**We need to know,"**_ Alex was saying, encouraging Rollins to open up about something.

"_**Lovell was my partner for three years,"**_ Rollins said carefully after a considerable pause. _**"I thought he was a good guy."**_

"_**Thought? As in, you don't think so any more?"**_ Bobby asked him, speaking the words that I was getting ready to say.

"_**He had a knack for picking up drug-related cases. For awhile, I thought it was just a coincidence. I mean, we worked the east side. There's a lot of gang and drug running activity in that area. But then I caught him tossing evidence."**_

"_**Like, literally throwing it away?"**_ Alex asked him.

"_**Yeah. I asked him about it, and he played it off like it was some kind of bonehead mistake. But the more I thought about it, I was suspicious that maybe he was steering our investigations in a particular direction. Or more specifically, away from one particular direction."**_

"_**You think he was on Valero's payroll."**_

"_**I…I…I don't know," **_he said at last.

Now here was a good guy. He didn't want to rat out his old partner, even when he was pretty damn sure that he was dirty.

Loyalty was a difficult thing, and it was only a _good_ thing if the object of loyalty was worthy.

In this case, it didn't seem as though Lovell was worthy of anything.

"_**Why is his name removed from Heidi's file?"**_

"_**I don't know. I just realized that when John had me send you guys everything. So then…I started pulling some other old files, and…well, his name was removed from any case that dealt with drugs."**_

"_**He wants deniability,"**_ Alex stated. _**"He doesn't want anyone to be able to tie him into anything unsavory. Why? Where is he now?"**_

"_**He transferred to the Special Crimes Division. But…I heard through the grapevine that he's going to make an announcement next week. He's going to run for mayor."**_

"_**You called it, Alex," **_Bobby said warily. _**"Politics are involved."**_

"_**And I bet I know who's funding his campaign."**_

Valero.

So if he went down, it was possible that Lovell could go down, too.

Talk about having a lot to lose. And what was it I'd said about that?

Oh yeah.

That made a person very dangerous.

TBC...


	33. Chapter 33

**Bobby POV**

* * *

The news that Rollins' former partner, Eric Lovell, was soon going to be running for mayor brought a new twist to the case.

Because if our suspicion was correct, and Lovell was funded by Valero, then the dirty streak ran deeper than just the police department.

And what would happen to the city if a man in bed with a drug czar suddenly became mayor?

I knew that Alex had a severe distaste for politicians, and I didn't blame her.

I was fairly sour on them myself.

Even more so after the recent Carver case. He was a prime example of how the proposition of power could override one's sense of morality.

Although, it sounded as though Lovell had been dirty even ten years ago. But was that when his aspirations had begun?

Had he essentially made a deal with the devil to ensure that his career path would be successful?

"If Lovell is involved, we need to smoke him out," Mary said firmly. We were back at the hotel, once again meeting in the conference room. "If there's one thing I hate, it's a dirty politician."

"_One_ thing you hate?" Alex asked her. "Don't sell yourself short. I think there are more like a hundred things you hate."

"Yeah, well dirty politicians are at the top of my list. Especially ones linked to drug dealers. And Lovell was hiding evidence even ten years ago? I wonder how many times Valero could've been arrested by now if it weren't for Lovell watching his back. This guy needs to go down."

"All of them do," Alex agreed. "Lovell, Keyes, Valero…"

"So how do we do it?" John asked. "Valero's out on bail."

Which was amazing to me, but was likely a product of Valero's money buying him the best defense attorney available.

The even more irritating thing was that he'd gotten out before Alex and I got the chance to interview him.

"We need to find the link," I said. "We have to find out how Keyes connects to both Lovell and Valero. We have to determine how they communicate, and what each of them gets out of the deal."

"You make it sound like it's going to be easy," Mary said.

"No, but it can be done. We've had some experience dealing with stained brass," Alex told her. "We took out the chief of D's."

"I read a little something about that," Mary said with a slow smile.

"I bet you did," Alex replied. "You hacked our file."

"You don't know that," Mary denied, but she kept grinning.

"Yes we do," I told her. "We know people."

"You know people who were able to trace the origin of the hack?" she asked incredulously.

"That's right," I told her, holding out my phone and jiggling it in front of her. "I got a text confirming it a few hours ago."

"You know that's a federal crime, right?"

"Hacking into the NYPD database?" Alex asked. "Yeah, I'm sure it is."

"No, I mean doing whatever your source had to do to find out that the Marshal Service was behind it. We have locked gates, you know."

"Not locked well enough apparently."

"It was only the personnel file," Mary said defiantly. "I have other resources for finding out the good stuff."

"I hate to bust up this little one-upmanship you guys have got going," John said, "But shouldn't we decide how we're going to do this?"

"No," Alex said. "First we should go next door and get some pizza. Then we can decide."

"I'm with her," Mary said.

"Oh, so you can agree on food," John replied. "And nothing else."

"We agree on other things," Alex argued as we headed for the door.

"Like what?" I asked, enjoying the banter.

She and Mary looked at each other and both of them shrugged.

"Superman or batman?" Mary asked.

"Batman," Alex answered quickly as she gave me a thorough yet subtle once-over. I'm not sure why she equated me to Bruce Wayne but I wasn't going to complain about it.

"Glock or Colt?"

"Colt."

"Huh. Okay, well…first date or third?"

"Fifth," Alex said on a laugh.

Although I distinctly remembered there being far fewer dates for us. Of course, we did essentially dance around each other for half a dozen or more years, and we didn't really actually do much _dating_, so maybe that changed things.

"Oh, you play hard to get, huh?" Mary said, and she was laughing, too. "Okay, here we go. Cats or dogs?"

"That's easy. Dogs. Definitely."

"There you go, John. We agree on dogs and pizza. What more do you want?"

So we walked through the snow across the parking lots and into Old Chicago where we spent nearly an hour drinking beer and eating pizza.

And basically pretending that we were just normal people out to dinner.

But we weren't. Normal people, that is.

Because after the first hour was up, we couldn't keep pretending.

As the waitress cleared our dishes and Alex ordered us another pitcher of Sam Adams, the seriousness descended upon us like a curtain.

"You did a great job today," Mary said to John. "Keyes believes that the investigation points to the fact that Heidi is alive. He believes that you're going to tell Bobby and Alex that you want to see her again."

"And they're going to make contact with you?"

"That's right. My records have been altered to show that I work out of the Denver office, just in case he's smart enough to check up on me," she answered. Then she turned to look at me and Alex. "Tomorrow morning, we'll let Keyes listen to the two of you bully me into setting up a meeting with Heidi."

"Bully _you_? It's a good thing Keyes doesn't know you," Alex remarked.

Mary gave her that smart ass grin and then opened her mouth to make an undoubtedly equally sarcastic reply, when John spoke up and kept us focused on business.

"And then what?"

"We'll have to wait and see what Keyes does," I answered. "Who he calls…where he goes…"

"I'm hoping that Marshall will be here by then," Mary said. "We can use another body."

"Marshall?" John asked.

"My partner."

"Your partner, a U.S. Marshal, is named Marshall?" John questioned as a slow smile spread across his face.

"Yeah, go ahead and get it out of your system because you know I've never heard those jokes before and neither has he," Mary said as she threw a glare in John's direction.

"Sorry," he replied with a dismissive wave.

"So if he gets here, he can help keep a tail on Keyes," I said in an effort to help smooth things over. Although Mary only looked marginally annoyed, which was pretty much her baseline.

"And we'll get a tap on Keyes phone," Mary told us.

"How long will that take?" Alex asked.

"Are you serious? I can have your phone tapped before we leave this table."

"You talk a good game, but…"

"I'll get it, okay? You guys meet with Keyes. You make a call to me. You give me a good snow job and I'll agree to meet with you. Hopefully Keyes will call in the big dogs and come armed to do business.

"And if not?"

"If not, I don't know. We'll stall. We'll toss out false evidence. We'll make the bosses antsy so that they try to force the issue. One way or another, we need to get them all."

Mary sat back in her chair and took a long drink. I caught Alex's eye across the table.

The adrenaline was flowing and the excitement of the impending bust rolled through everyone at the table.

And I knew exactly how Alex and I were going to channel that energy tonight.

Because being a little on edge was a good thing, but _too_ much was not.

Back in the old days, before I knew that Alex wanted me just as much as I wanted her…back _then_ I had other methods for burning off the extra adrenaline.

But those methods weren't nearly as much fun.

So since it seemed that the conversation was winding down, and we had a game plan in place, I signaled for the check.

I wondered idly what John was going to do tonight.

He had to be feeling like he was about to burst. I mean, he was a novice to this type of thing. With the exception of assisting on the Hagen sting, he was used to sitting behind a desk.

Would he hang out for awhile in the bar here and see if he could pick someone up? I didn't imagine him having much trouble.

Or would he head back to the hotel and sit in the bar there?

I couldn't picture him just going back to his room. From what I knew of him, he seemed to appreciate the company of a woman on a fairly regular basis, and on a night like this, one chock full of testosterone and adrenaline, it was practically a given that sex was in order.

And that was fine with me. At least if he did that, I would be sure that he wasn't sitting alone, relieving his tension with images of my wife in his head.

"All set?" Alex asked me after we'd paid the bill. She was anxious to get back, too, and knowing that only served to increase my sense of urgency.

"Let's go," I agreed.

John and Mary got up and trailed along behind us, so that answered one of my questions. He wasn't going to hang out at Old Chicago.

"So this guy, Marshall, what's he like?" John asked Mary as we entered the Holiday Inn.

I ducked my head to hide my smile as the two of them turned the corner, presumably heading for the bar.

I guess they'd decided to have a drink together, although I never heard either of them mention it.

"He's taller than you," she replied with a shrug. "He's better looking than you. And he knows everything about everything."

The last thing I heard as she turned toward John and pushed the door open with her backside was her teasing addition of, "Why, are you jealous?"

"Do you think he knows what he's getting into?" Alex asked me as we waited for the elevator.

"Nope," I replied. I ran my hand along the side of her face and added, "I'm just glad he's got someone else to keep his mind occupied."

She stepped into me and slid her arms around my waist.

"Me, too," she said as she rested her cheek against my chest. "So, do you think this thing is going to work tomorrow?"

"Can you ask me again tomorrow?"

"What, you don't want to talk about the case?" she teased. The elevator door opened and I moved us inside, walking her backwards until she hit the far wall.

"I don't want to talk at all," I replied as I leaned down to kiss her.

The intensity of the kiss was through the roof from the start.

I pushed my hips against hers, pinning her against the wall with my considerable frame. My overwhelming desire was causing me to throw all caution to the wind.

I was ready to take her right here in the elevator.

"The button," she said breathlessly when I tore my lips from hers and hungrily worked my way around to hear ear.

_The button_? I had no idea what she was talking about.

"Hmm?" I answered through my lustful haze.

I didn't let up on my assault of her skin. I had too many factors working inside of me to be able to stop.

The adrenaline of the case.

The territorial feeling lingering from John's confession.

And Alex.

Really, she was the only reason I needed. The feel of her and the taste of her…I just couldn't get enough.

"Bobby," she whispered as she leaned her head back to allow me better access.

"No posso fare a meno di pensarti," I mumbled against her skin. I worked my hands beneath her sweater and then slid my fingers past the waistband of her jeans. "Non so cosa farei senza di te nella mia vita."

She let out a low moan that went straight to my groin and I pushed relentlessly against her, eager to ease my aching need for more pressure, more sensation, just…more.

"The button," she said again, and this time she waved a hand in the general direction over my shoulder.

_Aha._

The elevator button.

We were still on the ground floor.

And if I wanted to get her naked, which I very much did, then I needed to get us up to the fifth floor.

_Pronto_.

I reached across the elevator and jabbed the appropriate button and then quickly turned back to Alex.

"You were saying?" she asked with a coy smile.

"Vieni qui e baciami," I ordered huskily as I wrapped my arms around her again.

She ran her hand down the front of my pants, and then increased the pressure as she slowly brought it back up.

Couldn't this elevator move any faster?

I captured her hand in mine, unable to withstand her wonderful, torturous touch any longer.

I needed us out of this elevator. I needed us out of these clothes. I just needed…

The doors rattled open and we hurried down the hall. I had the keycard in my hand, not wanting to waste a second of time before getting her behind closed doors.

Less than a minute after we arrived on the fifth floor, I had us safely locked inside of our hotel room, and I was once again where I wanted to be, which was pressed firmly up against Alex, my lips sealed tightly to hers. She had her back to the dresser, which offered a nice supportive surface.

I slid my hands into the back of her pants again, desperate to feel her skin.

"You need to take these off," I said, tugging on the fabric. My hands seemed incapable of moving around to the front to undo the zipper. I just wanted them off.

"Say it in Italian," she told me as she worked on my own zipper. I chuckled at her as I worked my hands upwards under her sweater, my fingers lightly grazing across her skin.

"Togliti i vestiti," I whispered into her ear. And then I sucked in a breath as she shoved my pants and boxers down to the floor.

"Keep going," she encouraged as she made short work of her own jeans. I started a steady stream of encouraging directives as we finished undressing, and my words were causing her to work at a frenzied pace.

In no time, we were skin on skin. Her hands were everywhere at once, and even though we'd barely begun, I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold out.

I scooted her back onto the dresser, with the mirror at her back, and forced myself to slow down.

I pushed into her incrementally, drawing out the sensation until I was fully within.

I laced my fingers through hers, holding our joined hands on either side of her head up against the mirror, and then I slowly began to move.

"Ti amo," I told her as I leaned in to kiss her again.

_I love you…I love you…_

I let those words roll through my head as we leisurely moved against each other, and the gentle rhythm belied the speed with which I was reaching the point of no return.

And as my movements became more erratic, and Alex became more vocal, and we both began racing towards that pinnacle, I couldn't keep the more possessive thoughts from entering my mind.

_She's mine…she's mine…she's mine…_

And I just couldn't bring myself to feel bad for my possessiveness.

In fact, at the moment, everything felt pretty damn good.

"I love you," she said softly on a long, shuddering sigh.

I had no words in response.

I was afraid that if I opened my mouth, I'd spout off some sort of caveman-like declaration of ownership which probably wouldn't go over very well at the moment, so instead I kissed her again, a long, leisurely exploration, and then I picked her up and moved us onto the bed.

"You can say it," she told me once we were under the covers and she was snuggled up against my side.

"Say what?" I asked, because there was no way in the world that she'd been reading my mind.

And I really didn't want to admit that the whole John thing was still bugging me just a little.

"You know," she began conversationally as she slid her leg across mine. "When I was married to Joe, a lot of the guys in the department just called me Joe's wife. Not Alex, or Eames, or even _officer_, but Joe's wife. It used to make me so mad. Because I was _me_. Alex. I didn't want another person to define me."

"I can understand that," I agreed carefully, and I was almost afraid that she _had _been able to read my mind.

And now she was going to flay me for branding her as mine, even if it was only in my own mind.

"But with you it's different," she said quietly. "We're so intertwined and yet you always respect that I have my own mind. You don't expect me to think like you just because we're together. So being with you, _being yours…_ it's never made me feel like I've lost any part of myself. That's part of the reason why I wanted to take your name. And it's part of the reason why this thing with John didn't really affect me. It just seems so peripheral because as far as I'm concerned nothing that anyone else does or says will ever change us."

It was a lot of words for Alex to say at one time, and I was touched by her sincerity.

And her astuteness.

"But I can understand why it bothered you," she said. "So you can say it."

I ran my hand along her jaw and up under her chin so that I could tilt her face towards mine.

"You are mine," I said before I leaned down to capture her lips.

It was a soft, brief kiss simply meant to punctuate my statement. When she pulled back from me, she gave me a smile.

"Yes I am," she agreed. "And you're mine."

She settled against me again, with her head resting on my chest, and she let out a contented sigh before adding, "So if I catch Mary looking at your ass one more time, I might need help hiding the body."

TBC…

A/N: I do not want to get yelled at. Italian translations: (1) I can't think of anything but you. (2) I don't know what I would do without you in my life. (3) Come here and kiss me. (4) Take your clothes off.


	34. Chapter 34

**A/N: obsessedwithstabler beware - here be monsters! :)**

**Strathmore POV**

* * *

I did cocaine once.

I'd like to say it was when I was young and stupid, but it wasn't.

It was five years ago.

I'd met this girl in South Beach on one of my anniversary non-celebrations. We went back to my hotel room, and she pulled out her stash.

Now I'm not naïve. I've seen it before, so I knew what it was. Hell, it's been offered to me before, on more than one occasion.

But I'd always said no.

I like to be in control of my faculties, and I'm also quite familiar with my temper, so I didn't want a foreign substance to cause me to lose my handle on things.

Because I _know_ what alcohol does to me. I know how much I can drink before I get angry and then how much more I can drink before I turn into a sobbing, pathetic buffoon.

And I routinely avoid both of those stages because neither one is much fun, not for me nor for whomever I'm with.

But I had no idea what cocaine would do to me. So I'd always said no.

The girl in South Beach, whose name I'm not sure I ever knew…she pulled out an eight ball and a hand mirror and then she'd laid out two lines.

I watched her as she did them both. And then she'd licked her finger and ran it along the residue on the mirror.

And for some inexplicable reason, just before she'd put her finger into her mouth, I'd grabbed her by the wrist. I'd pulled her finger into my mouth and licked it clean.

The grainy substance instantly numbed my tongue and lips and so my curiosity was piqued.

Suffice it to say, we finished off her eight ball that night. Three and a half grams. Not a lot to someone used to drugs, but more than enough for a neophyte like me.

It had made my heart pound, which I'd expected.

But it had also made me feel like I could conquer the world.

I could do any damn thing I wanted to because I was a fucking god.

Or, at least that was how I'd felt.

The sex had been unbelievably intense.

Rough and passionate and mind-boggling.

We'd gone at it for hours…in the room, on the balcony, in the hall, out on the beach…we'd watched the sun come up, and then gone back to the hotel room, finally out of blow and out of energy.

I woke up ten hours later.

The girl was gone, my cash was gone, and I felt like I'd been run over by a truck.

Thus my brief love affair with illegal substances was over.

My point for this journey down memory lane?

As we sat around Old Chicago and discussed the impending sting, I felt like I was on cocaine.

My head was buzzing and my heart was pounding and I just felt the need to…do…._some_thing.

I felt jacked up and invincible.

And I wasn't alone. I saw the looks that Bobby was giving Alex.

_This must be part of it_, I thought.

This was part of the draw of law enforcement. The excitement of a well-thought out plan, and the rush of knowing that you were getting ready to take out the bad guys.

It almost made me wish I'd chosen another career path.

I mean, I found what I did to be exciting.

I bought, I built, I _acquired_.

But I'd never felt quite like this.

Not even during the Hagen case, although that was probably because of the fact that I just didn't _know_.

I didn't know what was coming or what would happen.

Now I knew.

It had the potential to be dangerous and life-threatening and death-defying and…yeah, I guess I'm a bit of an adrenaline junkie.

Bobby wrapped things up quickly at the pizza place, paying the bill which would undoubtedly end up on his expense report, and then taking Alex by the hand and leading the way out of the restaurant.

Did I want to go back to the hotel?

Or stay here?

I tossed a glance into the bar. There were several prospects.

But then I looked back at Mary who was trailing along behind the others.

I trotted to catch up with her.

"Want to get a drink?" I asked her quietly as we crossed the parking lot.

"I'm not sleeping with you," she answered.

"You say that a lot," I joked.

"I just don't want you to think that a drink means sex."

"I know the difference," I assured her.

We finished the walk in silence, my mind jumping around, backtracking through the earlier conversation.

And then I remembered what else I wanted to ask her.

"So this guy, Marshall, what's he like?" I questioned Mary as we entered the Holiday Inn.

We made a right hand turn in the lobby, heading for the bar. She was slightly ahead of me, but I could hear the playfulness in her voice when she replied.

"He's taller than you. He's better looking than you. And he knows everything about everything."

My steps faltered for just a moment, and then she turned towards me and backed into the door, pushing it open.

"Why, are you jealous?"

"Why would I be jealous?" I asked as we found two empty stools at the bar. I held one out for her but she sat down in the other one.

"Well, you know," she said glibly.

"No, I don't. Tell me."

"Because you want to sleep with me. And now this mysterious man with whom I work is joining the fray, and you don't know anything about him. You don't know if I've slept with him, or if I want to, or if he's this asshole who is going to see you as competition…"

"Mary," I interrupted.

I felt laughter inexplicably bubbling up inside of me.

She was on a rant, talking about sex that she'd already assured me we wouldn't be having, and yet somehow it still felt like a possibility.

And it didn't even matter because I just liked being around her, and this giddiness that I was feeling was a wonderful new feeling.

I felt alive and better than I had in a very, very long time.

"What?" she asked in irritation.

"Relax," I told her. "Let's just have a drink."

We actually had six.

She told me about Marshall, whom she thought of like a brother. She also admitted that she thought he might be in love with her, but she hadn't gotten up the nerve to deal with that just yet.

"Do you love him?" I asked her. And I was truly interested in the answer.

I liked Mary. A lot. And not just because of the potential for sex.

As much as she tried to pretend it wasn't so, she was really a very good person.

"I do," she admitted. "But not like that. And I'm not sure why because he really is a great guy. But it's just not there, you know? The spark. And I don't think that's something I should have to wonder about. I think it's either there or it isn't."

And I talked some about Heidi.

"When Bobby and Alex first told me about some of the discrepancies, I was pretty upset. It was crushing, really," I admitted.

"Because she'd lied?"

"Because I didn't know what the truth was anymore. If she'd lied about some things, how do I know when she was telling me the truth?"

"She loved you," Mary said after we'd been quiet for a minute. "And she hated that she'd lied to you about her education. And her debt."

I looked up in surprise. I hadn't been telling Mary my thoughts because I'd expected that she knew the truth. I was just venting.

But apparently Heidi had confided in her.

"She told you about the debt? And the post office box?"

"She didn't want you to know, because she didn't want you to feel like you had to take care of it for her. She kept the PO Box so that you wouldn't find out."

"About the bills? Or was there more?"

"John," she began on a sigh. She rested her elbow on the bar and propped her chin on her hand, angling her head to look up at me. "She loved you. And now, due to circumstances beyond anyone's control, she loves someone else. Move on. And I don't mean move on to the next unavailable woman so that you spend your life on a countless string of meaningless flings and empty promises. I mean _move on_. Be happy. Find someone who makes you happy."

"And how am I supposed to know who that is?"

"Oh, well…see, you are talking to the wrong person about that. I haven't found one yet, either. But I think it's like that spark thing I was talking about. When you find her, you'll just know."

I kind of thought I knew already, but maybe not.

I mean, here I was looking at another unavailable woman, so maybe that was the part that I found appealing.

"We've got a big day tomorrow," she said after she tossed back the rest of her beer. "I think maybe I'd better call it a night."

I finished off my drink, too, and then paid the tab for both of us.

"I'll walk you up," I told her.

She looked at me warily, so I added, "I know. You're not sleeping with me."

We went out to the elevator, which I was grateful was in good working order.

"I can't believe you left that sign on there last night," I teased as we got on. "Do you know how long it took me to get up eight flights of stairs after all that liquor?"

"Twenty-seven minutes," she replied with a grin.

"You were watching?" I asked incredulously.

"Well, I didn't want you to go back up to the Gorens room for round two. And I didn't want you to hurt yourself," she admitted.

"So you just stood back and watched me stumble up all of those stairs," I stated, shaking my head and yet unable to keep from smiling. "I bet I was a sight."

"Well, you only went backwards three times," she told me as she started laughing.

"Three times?"

"Okay, maybe four."

"Huh. You know, you could've offered to help."

"Now where would've been the fun in that?"

The doors opened on the eighth floor and it hit me that she hadn't selected another floor to stop on.

"You're up here, too?" I asked her.

"Yes I am. So walk me to my door," she told me as she stepped off the elevator. I fell into step beside her as she walked down the long hall. "I'm all the way at the end."

Butterflies emerged in my stomach as we made the walk, and oddly enough my mind compared it to a prisoner's walk down death row. Why, I have no idea, unless maybe subconsciously I already knew what I planned to do.

"This is me," she said as we stopped in front of the last door. She pulled out her keycard, but then hesitated.

"You're going to be fine tomorrow," she said, pulling the topic out of nowhere.

We hadn't been talking about work.

In fact, we hadn't really been talking about much of anything, and I found it hard to believe that this was what was foremost on her mind.

"I'm not worried," I replied.

"You're not? Because if you're not worried about tomorrow, then I can't imagine what type of thing would make you worried."

"I worry."

"You do? About what?"

"This," I said.

"This?" she asked in confusion, but then as I stepped in closer I saw the recognition flash in her eyes.

"This," I said again just before I closed the last distance between us.

And this time the kiss wasn't innocent.

It wasn't a timid meeting of lips.

It was an intense and heady experience combined with a feeling of _finally_ that had me wondering if this was that spark. If this was that feeling that she'd been talking about.

Because kissing Mary felt like the most natural thing in the world and I didn't want to stop.

But I did because I had to when she put her hands on my chest and gave me a gentle shove.

"I really wish you hadn't done that," she said softly, and my heart sank.

Maybe I hadn't expected her to go all weak-kneed and throw herself at me, but regret was not on my list of optimistic responses.

She turned from me and ran her card through the lock and then opened the door.

I stood there in the hall, still out of breath from the kiss that I knew I'd be replaying in my head for many nights to come.

"I'm sorry," I told her as she stepped across the threshold. "I shouldn't have…"

"John," she interrupted, and then she waited until I brought my head up and met her gaze. Then she reached up and grabbed a fistful of my shirt and tugged, causing me to stumble into the room. "Get your ass in here."

TBC...


	35. Chapter 35

**Lupo POV**

* * *

"What do you think she's doing in there?"

"I have no idea," I answered.

I was sitting in the car with Bernard and we'd been outside of Arcadia for more than three hours.

He was in a pissy mood because date number four had been interrupted.

And date number four was supposed to be _the_ date.

The one where she went from being a casual date to being someone of whom he had carnal knowledge.

And I felt for him. Really, I did. Because he hadn't hit date number four with anyone in quite some time.

Me, I'd been having regular sex for going on five months now.

Because Connie and I hadn't waited for date number four.

In fact, technically, we hadn't really even waited for date number one.

I'd gone to her place to pick her up for dinner for our _first_ date and instead we'd ended up naked and sweaty on her living room rug eating Chinese take-out.

"What the hell are you smiling about?" Bernard groused.

"Nothing," I said quickly. "Sorry. So, you think she's working?"

"Well she's not on the payphone. And she's not smuggling out the ten g's."

"You think she's already paid out the money?"

"I honestly have no idea. There's no information on Alex floating around. Nothing at Candi's place. Nothing at April's place."

And then an idea hit me.

"Hey, you think maybe the four-one-one on Alex was all on that tossed cell?"

"It could've been," he agreed slowly.

"So what if it wasn't tossed?"

"You mean that maybe she passed off the cell to the killer so that he could access the information without there being a record of it on the call log?"

"That's what I'm thinking," I answered with a nod.

"Shit, Lupes."

"Exactly."

"But then why was it on the phone that Stoat still had? Why put new information on a second phone?"

Good question.

Had they passed the first phone off and then the hit man changed his mind?

Was the new phone a second effort on a failed attempt?

Well, the _third_ attempt if I wanted to be accurate. Frankie Moretti was the first failure.

It was a plausible theory and explained most of the evidence.

And if it was accurate, then that meant that the hit request hadn't gone out because Stoat's phone had still been in his possession.

So if the first – _second_ – attempt had been a wash, and he was trying to make a second – _third_ – attempt, then he wasn't able to complete the transaction before Testarossa had him killed.

But I still wanted to know where the rest of the money was.

_And_ I wanted to know who April had been cozying up to in the alley last week.

Because I sure as hell wasn't going to take any chances, or leave any stone unturned.

"So, what…you think that the first guy just fell through?" Bernard asked after several minutes. "Why?"

"I don't know. Maybe he wasn't really a killer. Maybe he thought he could do it, but when it came time for action he chickened out."

"That's all you got? That's your brilliant theory?"

"Hey, I didn't hear you coming up with anything any better," I replied.

I wasn't going to be his whipping boy. If he was sexually frustrated then that was his problem, not mine.

"I'm the one who got us the lead on the made man," he argued. "All you did was have your girlfriend get us a tap. What'd you do, hit her up for it during a post-coital cigarette?"

And now he'd crossed the line.

"You need to shut the hell up right now," I warned him as my temper flared. "Just because you're not getting any doesn't mean you can – "

"Lupes!" he interrupted sharply.

"What?" I shouted.

"April. Four o'clock."

"Shit," I muttered as I turned and looked over my right shoulder. Sure enough, April was leaving the building.

"She changed clothes," he remarked.

"She didn't have clothes in her locker. She didn't have anything in there."

"And she's got a bag," he said quietly. "She didn't have that when she went in."

"It's awfully small for ten grand."

"And she doesn't seem to be struggling."

Because see, here's something that people don't always realize.

Money is heavy.

And April was a small woman.

So now we had to make a choice.

Because we had probable cause.

She was a suspect in a grand larceny case and we were witnessing her leaving the place of the theft, toting a bag.

But that didn't mean that going after her was the smart thing to do.

Because right now, she didn't know we were watching.

If we approached her, then the jig would be up. Which meant that we'd be screwed if she _wasn't_ carrying the money.

If we waited, then she could lead us to what we were looking for.

_Or_ she could slip away. Potentially with the ten grand in her bag. Because maybe she was stronger than she looked.

"What do you think?" I asked Bernard.

He may really piss me off from time to time, but I still have a healthy respect for his gut instinct.

"It's too light," he said at last, echoing my thoughts.

So I started the engine.

We followed April for damn near an hour.

"Where in the hell is she going?" I muttered in frustration as we crossed the state line into Connecticut.

"I don't know but we can pop her any time now for leaving the state while on bail."

"We will if we need to."

We drove in silence a little longer, following her into a well-off suburban neighborhood.

"Hey, Lupes…about earlier…that was…definitely uncalled for."

"It's nothing," I deflected, although I was still a little hot about it.

"I was out of line. And I apologize."

"Forget about it," I replied.

And this time I meant it. His apology was sincere and I could tell that he felt bad about what he'd said.

"So we're good?"

"Yeah, we're good."

We kept following as the houses got larger and farther apart.

"Now what in the world is a girl like April doing in a swanky neighborhood like this?"

"Sugar daddy?" I offered.

"Maybe, but guys like that usually spring for a fancy hotel room, not invite them to their homes."

I quickly pulled alongside the curb when I saw April turn into a driveway about two blocks up the street.

I killed the lights and the engine and we got out of the car.

The lateness of the hour provided suitable darkness for us to go unnoticed, although we had to be careful to avoid the street lamps.

"I don't think I like this," he mumbled as we watched April go up the front sidewalk of a large cape cod.

She had the bag slung over her shoulder.

"If she knows people like this, why would she help Candi steal money from Testarossa?" I wondered aloud.

"Why would she even be working in a strip club?"

"You think all strippers come from poor backgrounds?" I asked him.

"How many strippers do you think I know?" he replied, letting out a light chuckle.

"Look," I said, pointing toward the front of the house. "She doesn't just know people like this. She _is_ people like this."

"Uh huh. What the hell is going on here, Lupes?"

Because April didn't knock.

She just opened up the front door and walked on in.

"Well, let's go introduce ourselves," Bernard said as we took off toward the house.

"I see why she changed her clothes. I'm betting this is her family. I wonder if they know what she does for a living."

"Are you going to out her?" he asked me.

"That depends on how cooperative she is."

We went up the front steps and rang the bell.

"Can I help you?"

It was a butler. A goddamn butler.

"We're here to see Miss Lieszak," Bernard said politely.

"May I tell her who is calling?"

"You may," I replied as I showed him my badge. "Detectives Lupo and Bernard."

"Please come in."

We followed the butler through a spacious foyer and into an elegant sitting room.

He gave us a slow once-over as though he was gauging whether or not we would soil the furniture and then he reluctantly gestured for us to sit down on the snow white sofa.

"Wait here. Miss April will be with you shortly."

"Miss April?" Bernard whispered. "They _definitely_ don't know what she does for a living."

"Do you smell that?" I asked him.

"What?" he replied, sniffing dramatically.

"It almost smells like…"

"Detectives."

April stood in the doorway, looking every bit as though she belonged in this house.

But I'd seen her other place.

Hell, I'd been cracked in the face with a bottle of cheap wine while _standing_ in her other place.

So now I was curious as to which side of April was the act and which side was real.

Both of us stood up as she walked into the room.

"I guess you followed me here," she remarked as she sat down in a Kingstown Gibraltar chair that looked uncomfortable as hell, but probably easily cost a couple of grand.

"Yes, we did. And sugar, you have got a lot of explaining to do," Bernard said.

"I don't owe either of you an explanation," she replied, although she courteously gestured for us to sit back down.

"Uh, yeah, I think you do," I said. "What was in that bag that you brought in here?"

"It's really none of your business."

"You are out on bail," I said firmly. "Everything you do is our business."

"Please, Detective. Keep your voice down. Have a little respect."

"A little respect? Are you for real? You're a stripper who helped rip off her boss for twenty grand, and you're possibly involved in a murder for hire!" I said incredulously.

Although, I did lower my voice as I said it.

Because something about that smell had my brain working like crazy even while I was carrying on the conversation.

"I don't have anything to do with setting up a hit," she insisted in a harsh whisper. "I told you that."

"You also told us that you didn't know anything about the money, but Candi said she gave you ten grand."

"She didn't."

"She didn't give you the other ten grand," I repeated.

"No," she said. And then she sighed heavily and sat back in the chair before adding, "She gave me five."

Bernard and I looked at each other, and I wondered if he'd identified the smell yet. I didn't think so, but I thought that maybe I'd pieced a little bit of it together.

Somewhat.

There were still gaping holes, but I thought I'd let April fill in the gaps.

"So tell me, April. How much pot can you buy for five grand? A pound? Two?"

She stared at me, nearly as surprised as Bernard.

"How'd you know?" she asked cautiously.

"I'm a good cop," I answered.

"I'm not a dealer or anything. I swear."

"Who has cancer? Your mom?"

Her face clouded over with emotion and she gave me a confirming nod.

"It helps her, okay? The other drugs, the ones she gets from the doctors, they don't help. She's in a lot of pain."

Her words put a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach and her sincerity nearly broke my heart.

Hey, I'm not a cold guy. I can appreciate when someone else is in a rough situation.

"April," I said quietly. "You tell us everything, and we'll leave you alone, okay? And I mean everything. If you're completely honest, I'll drop the assault charge, and I'll see what I can do about getting you off easy on the grand larceny, okay? I know an ADA."

"You'll help me? Why?"

"Because we need answers," Bernard said.

I was glad that he was right there with me, and I didn't even get an eye roll from him at my mention of knowing an ADA.

"Okay," she said. "Where do you want me to start?"

"Why are you working at Arcadia?"

"I'm supposed to be in college. But I got into a bad lifestyle awhile back…you know, some serious drugs, and…well, I blew my tuition money. I'm working at the club to get it back, because I don't want my mom to know what happened."

"So she thinks you're still in school."

She nodded and I pulled out my handkerchief when I saw a couple of tears roll down her cheek.

"I don't want to be dancing, but it's the fastest way to make money, unless I…you know…and I'm not doing that. Taking my clothes off is bad enough."

"Sweetheart, that's a nice story, but we know you've got a record," Bernard told her. "Possession _and_ prostitution."

"I wasn't hooking," she insisted. "I was buying off of one of the girls when Vice came through on a round up. I swear."

"Okay. So you met Candi at work," I encouraged.

"Yeah. A couple of months ago."

"Does she know about…this?"

"No. I didn't want any of them to know that my family has money."

"Smart girl," Bernard commented.

"I mean, they're mostly nice people," she said. "But Candi…she's trouble."

"So how did you get hooked up with her in this theft deal?"

She explained to us what had happened.

Candi had approached her, needing a second set of hands, and she thought that April had the look of desperation. She'd promised her five grand if she helped pull off the heist.

"So you stole from Testarossa," I said. "And you don't know anything about a hit?"

"She didn't tell me why she wanted the money. She just said that it was for Mike."

"Mike Stoat," Bernard clarified.

"I guess. He was in prison, so I'm not sure why he needed money, but I didn't ask."

"Because you needed the money to buy weed for your mom," Bernard stated.

"She would never ask me for it, but I knew that it would help her. I got some a few months back, using the last of my savings, and so when she told me that she was almost out, I knew that I had to figure out a way to get some more money really fast. I asked the boss for some extra shifts, but he wouldn't give them to me. He said that he could arrange for me to make some money on the side, but…"

"You didn't want to do that," I finished for her. She shook her head and blew her nose into my handkerchief.

"I was mad at him for not helping me, so when Candi came to me with her idea, I thought it was only fair. I mean, he was taking more than he should've been anyway."

"He was taking a cut of what you made on stage?"

"Yeah. So I thought that the five grand was kind of like mine anyway."

"So you and Candi stole the money. She gave you five large and you bought pot."

"Two pounds," she admitted. "This guy came to the club last week and said that he could hook me up."

"A mafia type?" Bernard asked her, giving me a knowing look.

She nodded her head.

"Okay, I've got to ask," I said. "If you're mostly innocent in all of this, then why in the world did you whack me in the face with a wine bottle when I came to talk to you?"

"I'm sorry! I got scared, okay? The dealer was on his way over to bring me the pot, and I was afraid that if we didn't get out of there, then he might think it was a set up for him or something. I hit you so that you'd hurry up and take me to jail."

"So that the dealer wouldn't think you were a rat."

"Uh huh. I really am sorry."

Twenty minutes later, we left April's house.

"You believe her?" Bernard asked me.

"I don't see how we can't," I replied. "It makes sense."

"You smelled the dope in the house?"

"Pot and antiseptic," I replied with a shrug.

"You've got a good nose. I couldn't smell anything but money."

I chuckled at him as we walked back to the car.

"So," he said. "Here we are again."

"Yep. Back at square one."

TBC...


	36. Chapter 36

**Mary POV**

* * *

I'm going to blame it on the alcohol.

But that's really a load of crap. Because I've had a lot more to drink on many occasions and yet I've never done anything so ill-advised.

Okay, yes I have.

In fact, I've done lots of things that were ill-advised.

And some of them were immoral and illegal and reckless.

And most of them were while I was stone cold sober.

So my whole need for justification and rationalization is just a manifestation of guilt.

And why did I feel guilty?

Because I let my personal needs outweigh my good judgment.

But I just couldn't stand there and listen to him apologize and feel as though he'd been wrong to kiss me.

Not when I could still feel his lips on mine even though we were three feet apart.

Not when all I wanted to do was drag him into my room and have my way with him.

And especially not when I'd wanted that kiss every bit as much as he had.

"I shouldn't have…" he said as I stood with my back to him while my good sense battled my needs.

Guess which one won?

"John," I interrupted.

In the second that passed while I waited for him to look at me, all that I could think of was that this was going to be without a doubt one of the dumbest things that I'd done in a long time.

A _very _long time.

But then he brought his eyes up to mine, and I felt the need hit me like a ton of bricks.

I grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him toward me. He wasn't expecting it, so he stumbled a step or two.

"Get your ass in here," I said gruffly, slamming the door closed behind him.

"I didn't mean to," he began, but I cut off whatever else he was going to say when I kissed him, pushing him into the door I'd just closed.

"This is a really bad idea," I said when I quit kissing him and started tugging off his jacket.

"I know," he agreed as he grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me again.

He stepped into me, taking control of the kiss and shifting us until we were in the short hallway inside the room, and now I was the one backed into the wall.

"Really bad," I continued.

By this time, his jacket was on the floor, and I started working on the buttons of his shirt, while he ran his hands up and down my back.

We kept moving, like the silver ball inside of a pinball machine, bouncing off of varying surfaces until at last we fell onto the bed in a flurry of hands and lips.

He grunted, a sound of pain, and my mind flashed onto the file I'd read on him before coming to Denver.

_He'd been shot three weeks ago_.

"Are you okay?" I asked him as I attempted to shift off of him. I was familiar with the lingering pain of a gunshot wound.

He didn't answer, but instead he held me in place and ran his hand over my hair, tugging on the hair band until the strands were free.

All the while we were fused at the lips, getting to know one another in the most basic fashion.

I couldn't remember a time when I'd felt this reckless, this out of control, this turned on, this freaking _hot._

When we'd fallen onto the bed, he was beneath me, but after several glorious minutes, he rolled us over so that I was on my back with him on top of me, settled comfortably and naturally between my thighs.

I moved my hands down his back and over his butt, finally getting to feel first-hand what I'd spent considerable time looking at.

But reality hit me when I realized that I could feel a hardness poking into my side.

And not the good kind of hardness.

"Oh, hang on," I said suddenly, forcing myself to pull away.

"What's wrong?"

"My gun," I answered.

I sat up and took off my holster but the brief respite brought clarity.

This was wrong, pure and simple.

"John..."

"I know," he replied without me having to say the words.

We both got up from the bed, each of us breathing heavily.

"I'm sorry."

"I know," he said again.

"It's not that I don't want to," I told him. "Believe me, I want to. It's just..."

"I _know_," he repeated and this time he smiled at me. He ran his hand over my hair again, grabbing onto the ends briefly before letting them fall away from his finger tips.

"I'm still on this case, and I like you and it would just be wrong on so many levels, and if there's a possibility that maybe we get to know each other better after this thing is over, then I don't want to ruin it just because I didn't know how to say no right now."

"Mary, it's okay. You're right."

"Are you sure?" I asked with a grin. "Because I was kind of hoping that maybe you could convince me otherwise."

He barked out a laugh and shook his head.

"You know, I had a feeling that you'd be different. And you are. That's a good thing."

"Different?"

"Women never say no to me," he told me with a shrug. "Especially not once things get started."

"Oh, so this was kind of a shot to your ego then, huh?"

"I like that it's important enough to you that we don't let our impulsiveness get the best of us."

He stepped into me again and wrapped his arms around me.

And then he kissed me again, only this time slowly and for some reason the change in pace only made me hotter.

I wanted him, more than I could remember wanting any man in a very, _very_ long time.

He moved away from my mouth, working at a leisurely pace across my jaw line and down to my neck.

"I'm still not sleeping with you," I told him unconvincingly as I tilted my head back, encouraging him to keep doing what he was doing.

"I know," he said, and he stopped for just a moment to flash me a grin. "Because it's a bad idea, right?"

"It is. It really, really is," I agreed as I ran my hands over his back. "But we don't have to quit just yet, do we?"

"No," he agreed.

"I mean, when was the last time you just did this? Made out with someone with no end goal in mind? Kiss just for the sake of kissing rather than as a means to an end?"

"Mary…"

"Yeah?"

"Stop talking," he directed as he leaned in again. I could feel his breath in my ear and it was sending shivers down my spine.

And as proud of myself as I was for my resolve a few moments ago, it was crumbling quickly.

Because he was good at this. Really good, and in a way, it was almost like torture. I mean, it felt so incredible that I wanted to move things on to the next step.

And yet, I had to stick to my guns.

And John was on board with that. I didn't get the sense that he was trying to talk me out of my clothes.

In fact, he probably could have if he'd really wanted to. Did I mention that I haven't had sex for more than two weeks?

So it was probably a good thing when my cell phone rang.

"I should probably get that," I told him.

Reluctantly, I stepped back from him and ran my hand through my hair as I walked to the dresser to pick up my phone.

"It's my boss," I told John.

And then I held my finger up to my lips.

It wasn't that I was doing anything wrong. I wasn't.

_Technically_.

Generally, having sex while working a case was not my modus operandi, but John wasn't a witness and we weren't actually having sex, so…it was all above board.

I'm a grown-up.

I'm unattached.

If I want to make out with a man in my hotel room during down time, then it was my choice.

But that didn't mean that I was going to advertise it to Stan.

"Yeah, Stan," I answered.

"I got your tap," he told me. "I've got a guy monitoring the activity as we speak. If we get anything good, I'll let you know. Everything okay there?"

"Yeah, it's fine. Tomorrow we're going to have the Gorens get in contact with me, and they'll insist on a meeting. I'm guessing that's when the activity on Keyes' phone will heat up."

"And this Lovell guy. You think he's dirty?"

"It's the only explanation that we've got at the moment."

"I don't think I need to tell you to proceed with caution."

"No, you don't. I know what I'm doing."

"Marshall's on his way back here."

"He's not coming to Denver?"

"They're still canceling flights into DIA, and he's got a witness here who needs him. You can call the local office if you need back up."

"Okay."

"Mary. Call the local office."

"If I need back up," I said firmly.

I hated bringing in people that I didn't know, and I was already working with _three_ people I didn't know so…of course, one of those three I'd been kissing only minutes before so I guess I did know him a little.

"You keep me posted."

"I will, Stan. I promise."

I hung up with my boss and flopped into the lone chair.

"Everything okay?" John asked me.

I looked up at him as he stood in the middle of the room.

His shirt was unbuttoned and untucked and his hair was messed up.

He was _really_ good-looking. And sweet.

And I was hit with a feeling of longing and loneliness that suddenly threw me into a bad mood.

"Everything's fine. In ten hours we're going to be telling a dirty cop that my witness is alive - which she actually _is _so that's a cardinal sin in my book - in an attempt to smoke him out, along with his drug czar string-puller and an equally dirty mayor wannabe. Everything is just fucking peachy."

He let out a sigh and sat down on the end of the bed. I kept watching him, unsure of exactly what kind of reaction I wanted from him.

Did I want him to tell me that it would all be okay?

Or to ask me why I'd turned into a bitch for no reason?

Did I want him to yell at me and be an ass so that I could just forget about this stupid fantasy that we might someday be able to have…_some_thing?

"Do you think that we'll be able to get Lovell?" he asked me, and his question threw me off. I'd been expecting personal rather than business.

"Um…I don't…I'm not sure," I admitted. "Hopefully they've made contact somewhere along the line, and the fact that Rollins knows he worked on that case with him and yet his name's been removed, well…that won't look good for Lovell. So Rollins' testimony alone will help, but if we can find the connection to Valero then I don't see how he'll be able to deny it."

"And the bigger they are, the harder they fall, huh? Does it worry you?"

"Lovell? No. He took the express elevator to the top instead of climbing the ladder, and he did it by turning a blind eye to drug dealers and murderers. He's a scum bag, and I'll be glad to see him go down."

We sat quietly for a moment, each of us lost in our own thoughts.

"I like you, Mary," he said, throwing me a second curve ball in only a minute. "And I hope that after we clean house, maybe we can see each other again."

"You realize that you're still doing it, right?" I asked him sadly.

"Still doing what?"

"You've picked a girl who's unavailable. You're avoiding any potential for commitment because you know that it can never happen between us."

"What can never happen? A commitment?"

"John, I live…not in New Jersey. Suffice it to say that I'm west of the Mississippi."

"Okay," he said, and a slow smile spread across his face. "You know that I have my own plane, right?"

"Well, now you're just bragging," I said dismissively.

He got up from the bed and crossed the room to stand in front of me. He offered his hand to me, so I took it and he helped me up.

"We've known each other a day," he said quietly as he pulled me into a hug. "I'm not promising any kind of commitment just yet. But I do want to get to know you better after this is over. And I don't normally like to remind people about my money, but in this case I will, because you know what it does for me? It means that I can take off of work whenever I want and I can go wherever I want. I can fly out to…wherever….and take you out on a date, and still be back to the office in the morning. Miles just mean that a little better planning is required. It doesn't make you unavailable."

I let his words roll through me, and despite a slight feeling of panic, I let him keep hugging me.

In fact, I hugged him back.

And then my defense mechanism kicked in and I stepped away and brought up work again.

"Now tomorrow you are not allowed to argue with me. I mean it. If I say that you need to do something a specific way, then you need to do it. I've been doing this job for a long time, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'm serious."

"Okay," he said again. He quickly and efficiently buttoned up his shirt and then tucked it into his pants before walking over to pick up his jacket. "Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

"I'm sorry. I just…I need to keep things professional. For now anyway," I told him, hoping that he wouldn't call me out on the fact that for the past hour, I'd been acting _very_ unprofessional.

"I get it," he replied easily. "It's fine."

He gave me a wink and opened the door.

"Hey, John!" I called out to him. I wasn't even sure what I was going to say except that I wasn't ready for him to leave just yet.

"Yeah?"

"Albuquerque."

Because really, what did it matter? Heidi wasn't there anymore. And we were essentially business colleagues. Sort of. It's not like other fellow law enforcement didn't know what I did and where I lived.

In fact, his own brother knew.

I'd met Logan once. It was years ago when a case had taken me to New York and I'd crossed paths with Mike and his then-partner, some redhead.

And Mike had flirted with me. Not hard or obnoxiously, but just a little. Just enough that, later on, I'd thought about his smile and his ever-changing eyes.

Not for long, mind you, but fleetingly.

And now here was that same smile, grinning at me as though he'd just won the lottery.

Only this time, the accompanying eyes were brown. Really dark brown, almost as though there was no difference between the iris and the pupil and as I thought more about the color, I stepped closer to him to get a better look.

"Your eyes are different than your brother's," I said. I'd told him earlier about the brief and professional-only meeting that I'd had with his brother. "His can't seem to make up their mind what color they want to be."

"I never have any problem making up my mind about what I want," he said, his voice soft and raspy, and his meaning was quite clear.

"I get that about you," I answered in a calm voice that belied the sudden reemergence of butterflies and arousal.

Because I was so close to him, I couldn't resist kissing him again. But I did manage to keep it short and then I shoved him out of the door.

I wasn't having any problem making up my mind about what I wanted either.

I just couldn't have it.

Or at least, not yet.

TBC..


	37. Chapter 37

**Lupo POV**

* * *

The whole thing with April had put me in a foul mood.

Because I'd thought our case was in trouble before.

Now it was crap.

We didn't know much more than we'd known two days ago.

In fact, it felt like we knew less.

But mostly, my mood had darkened because being at April's house had brought back memories.

That smell had made me sixteen again.

"_Cyrus, I need you…can you help me? Please…"_

"What now?" Bernard asked as we drove back into the city. I was grateful that his words had interrupted my thoughts.

"Well, we're still missing five grand."

"Can five grand buy a hit?"

"On a former cop? Five dollars could buy that hit. We've got to get Candi talking."

"And finish what you started with those phone records. You said that Logan and his wife are going to help?"

"Yeah. They'll be in later. I'm going to meet them at their house at one."

"You? Are we not partners anymore?"

"You have a fourth date to finish," I told him with a wry grin. "I can bring the Logans up to speed."

"My date can wait," he told me.

"It can," I agreed. "But there's no reason why it should. I'm going to have a stack of phone records and two fresh pair of eyes. Besides, I'm just planning on giving them the rundown. I'm sure we won't actually start working tonight."

"Well, if you're sure," he mumbled as he pulled out his cell phone.

"Hell yeah, I'm sure," I told him. "Besides, you need to get laid so you'll get out of your bad mood."

Bernard laughed out loud at that, which was what I'd been hoping he would do.

"Yeah, well I just hope my date agrees with you," he said with a grin.

I drove while he made his call, and then once we were in Manhattan, I dropped him off at his car.

"You call me if something happens," he told me before he shut the door.

"I will. Otherwise I'll see you in the morning."

I left Bernard and sent Connie a text.

_**Are you almost done?**_

She replied.

_**No. Hit a snag. I'll call you later.**_

I had four hours before I needed to be at the Logans.

Connie was busy.

Bernard had a date.

And for some reason, I did not want to be alone.

And yeah, okay, I knew the reason. I didn't want what happened earlier to send me back down memory lane.

Or I should say, any _farther_ down memory lane.

Because images and voices from my past were fighting for dominance in my head, and I just wanted them all to get the hell out.

So I drove to McNally's and headed into the bar.

And if it's any indication of how desperate I was for company, I nearly wept at the sight of Ross and Rodgers sitting at a table.

My boss and the medical examiner.

And I was giddy.

I gave them a casual wave and headed for the bar. As I'd hoped, Ross called me over to the table.

"Pull up a chair, Detective," Rodgers said pleasantly.

"How'd it go with April?" Ross asked.

"Danny, let the man get a drink first."

"Oh, it's um…I don't want to interrupt."

"Sit, Detective," Ross ordered.

So I pulled up a chair and sat at the table. I waved over the waitress and ordered a beer, and then I filled Ross in on what had happened in Connecticut.

"So that's five grand accounted for," Ross remarked. "And you didn't arrest her for felony possession?"

"It was…medicinal," I mumbled lamely.

Medicinal or recreational, two pounds of mary jane was still illegal in New York _and_ Connecticut.

"You know that? Or she told you that?"

"I'm sure of it," I said confidently.

"And she didn't know anything about the hit?"

"Cap, she's a girl who made a bad choice and now she's working her butt off to make up for it. She doesn't want her mom to be disappointed in her because she may never have the chance to make it up to her. She's not involved in the hit."

"Okay," he said, backing off and giving Rodgers a look.

It's possible I was a little too vehement about it.

"So where's your partner?" Ross asked me.

"I sent him back to his date. We're tapped for tonight. Tomorrow we'll try another round at Candi."

"Mike and Carolyn are coming back tonight?"

"I'm meeting them in a few hours. They're going to help me go over the phone records. If…I mean, if you say..."

"It's fine, Detective," Ross said.

"Have you heard from Bobby and Alex?" Rodgers asked me.

"We texted earlier. They'll probably be home this weekend."

I spent the next two hours having dinner and pleasant conversation with Ross and Rodgers.

Or rather, _Liz_ as she insisted that I call her. I'd always known that she had a great sense of humor, but she really had me cracking up with some of her stories.

It was an amusing and welcome respite from the demons of my past.

As I walked back to my car after dinner, I got a text from Connie.

_**I'm still working. I'm going to have to skip the Logans. I'll try to be quiet when I get in.**_

I replied.

_**Don't be quiet. Wake me up. **_

I tucked my phone back into my pocket and drove slowly over into Brooklyn.

I was still early.

Really early.

But I was still feeling out of sorts and I didn't want to go home, and I wasn't sure what else to do, so I just pulled out the phone records and sat in my car looking them over.

But I couldn't stop thinking about that smell.

My junior year of high school.

My dad had left the year before, leaving my mom alone with four of us. I was the oldest, so I was instantly the man of the house.

Five months later, my mom was diagnosed with glioblastoma. Her prognosis was eighteen months.

She lived seven months.

And for the last three of those seven months, our home smelled of marijuana and antiseptic.

My aunt took care of my mom's medical needs, and I kept her supplied with primo weed.

I kept myself supplied with it, too, to block out the reality that my mom wasn't going to live to see me graduate high school.

I spent a large portion of those last three months stoned out of my mind.

My grades took a nose dive right along with my attitude.

And then I caught my little brother smoking it.

"_You do it," _he'd shouted at me belligerently.

"_But _you_ can't,"_ I'd retorted obstinately.

And even as I'd said the words, I'd realized my hypocrisy.

And my similarity to my old man. He was the one who'd tried to teach us about commitment and follow-through, but then left his family high and dry.

So I'd quit smoking dope, and worked harder in school, and forced myself to be a positive role model for my brother and my two sisters.

Of course, now my brother was dead. And one of my sisters, too. The other sister lived in Montana and I hadn't seen her since my brother's funeral.

_One big happy family_.

"Hey, are you going to come in or should we climb in the car with you?"

It was Logan, and he was knocking on my window.

I looked at the dashboard clock and realized that I'd fallen asleep with the paperwork spread all over the front seat.

It was one-fifteen.

"You're late," I said as I got out of the car.

I saw the lights flicking on in the house, and I figured that Carolyn had gone on inside.

"Like you noticed," he replied good-naturedly.

"How was Rio?" I asked him as I gathered up my papers.

"Everything I thought it would be."

I followed him up the front walk, working hard to shake the cobwebs from my dream.

"Where's your partner?" Mike asked me as he opened the front door.

"He's on a date."

"I meant the blonde," he quipped.

"Ah. Sorry, I'm still a little fuzzy. She's working. I think," I added as I pulled out my phone.

I didn't have any new messages, so I had to assume that she was still at the office.

With Cutter.

It was a good thing that I wasn't jealous.

"How about some coffee?" Carolyn asked as we entered the kitchen.

"That would be great," I agreed.

"So where are we?" Mike asked, quickly getting down to business.

I told them what Bernard and I had discovered earlier while I laid out the phone records on the table.

"So it has to be in here somewhere," I concluded. "She called someone who called _some_one. Other than that, I've got the ten grand she had in her house, and another five that's missing."

"Let's get started then."

"I just wanted to bring you up to speed," I said. "We don't have to start on this tonight. You guys just spent sixteen hours on a plane."

"Don't remind me," Mike said. "I've got the scratch marks to prove it."

"Mike," Carolyn chastised.

"What, is that your kryptonite?" I asked with a grin. "You're afraid to fly?"

"I'm not _afraid_," she corrected as she sat down at the table with us. "I just don't care to."

She gave Mike a glare as she grabbed a stack of papers, but her wilting look quickly turned into a smile. They had some kind of something going back and forth between them, but whatever it was, I wasn't privy to it.

All I knew was that they were both tanned and happy, and they seemed as though quite a weight had been lifted since the last time I'd seen them.

And that was enough for me.

So we teased and joked and hurled harmless insults at each other as we scoured the logs, and the interaction with the two of them very nearly made me forget all about my earlier funk.

It was about the most fun I'd had while going through phone records.

But fun or not, we didn't come up with anything new.

Although we made good headway.

We now had quite the tree of phone calls. We were down several levels of branches, now mapping out people who had been called by people who had been called by Candi.

"The girl liked her phone," I mumbled as my own cell began to vibrate.

"Maybe she was into more business than just stripping," Carolyn suggested. I thought about that as I pulled my phone from my belt.

It was Connie.

_**I'm done. Your place or the Logans?**_

I checked my watch, and realized that it was almost three.

I had to be at 1PP in five hours. I was going to have to call it a night.

"You think that she was hooking?" I asked Carolyn while I typed in my reply to Connie.

_**Mine. I'll be there soon.**_

"She called a lot of men. A _lot_ of men," Mike said. "April was just about the only woman she did call, and we know that was only because of the money."

"It's possible that she just has all male friends," Carolyn mused. "Or maybe she's into drugs."

"If she were hooking or dealing, shouldn't she have a lot more money?" I said.

"Maybe she's not very good at it," Mike joked.

"Or maybe she's got money somewhere that we haven't found," Carolyn said, picking up on my line of thought.

"And if she's got money somewhere else, then maybe the five grand is stashed there, too."

"But if she has money, then why steal from Testarossa to pay for the hit?"

"This girl is making my head hurt," Mike said as he rubbed his hand over his face. "She can't just do things that make sense, can she?"

"I want to talk to her," Carolyn said. "She's in custody, right?"

"She is," I agreed. "She was arrested, made bail, and then got arrested again so she's not going anywhere this time. But she does have a good lawyer."

"A good lawyer," Logan remarked. "Paid for by whom?"

I sat back in the chair and looked at the two of them.

"We confiscated the ten grand," I said with a shrug. "And the five grand was already missing when she was arrested. She couldn't have known that she would need it for legal counsel."

"Who's the lawyer? Is she pro bono?"

"Kris Filson."

"I know of her. She doesn't do freebies," Carolyn said.

"She did show up awfully quickly after the arrest," I agreed. "But I have no idea how that would fit in here. What are we saying? That her lawyer works for the hit man who Candi hired, and now he's helping her by paying her legal counsel so that he doesn't get busted, too?"

"You said yourself that she's being closed-lipped about the whole thing. You've offered her deals, right? Who is she protecting? Stoat is dead."

"Either that, or maybe she _does_ have hidden money."

"This thing just keeps getting weirder," I said, shaking my head.

"Go home," Mike said. "That was Connie, right?"

"Yeah. She's done," I admitted. "Thanks for your help."

"You think you can get me into talk to Candi tomorrow?" Carolyn asked. "Maybe a woman to woman chat might clear things up."

"Hey, at this point I'd agree to a séance to speak with Stoat himself."

"Ross will be on board?"

"I've got it covered," I assured them.

We said our goodbyes, and I headed for home.

For now, my home was where we usually stayed even though we hadn't officially agreed to move in together.

But she hadn't called it _home_ in the text. She'd called it _my place_.

_Soon_, I decided. Soon I'd get up the nerve to make things a little bit more official.

Because I needed to stop acting like I had all the time in the world.

Because really, who did? Who knew how much time anyone had?

Connie had beaten me home, and had already walked Otto. She was now sitting on the couch wearing one of my t-shirts and I'd bet nothing else.

I wanted to come home like this every night.

"Did you catch a break?" she asked me as she got up from the sofa.

I felt dead tired, and emotionally wrought. I shook my head and tossed my jacket on the chair.

"Are you okay?"

"It was a long day," I admitted as I pulled her into my arms.

"Did something happen?"

"I just…can we just…not talk?" I asked her.

Then I sat down on the couch and pulled her onto my lap. I buried my nose in her hair, inhaling deeply in a desperate attempt to erase the smell from before.

"Lupo?" she whispered, and the concern in her voice was almost too much.

I remembered why I'd avoided relationships. I remembered why I was more interested in having fun than allowing my emotions to develop.

Because it hurt too much when things fell through.

When people left. Or died.

But that didn't mean it was the right thing to do. And quite frankly, I'd come too far to run away now.

"Do you want to move in with me?" I asked her softly as I continued to breathe in the sweetness of her scent.

"I kind of already have, don't you think?" she replied, and I could hear the smile in her voice.

"I mean, all the time. Sell your place. Or we'll sell mine. I just want us to live together."

"Because you had a bad day?"

It was a fair question and I didn't blame her for asking it.

And I knew that she was giving me an out. If the question had been frivolous or impetuous, I could take it back, and we'd still be okay.

But I didn't want to take it back.

"No. Because I love you."

TBC...


	38. Chapter 38

**Alex POV**

* * *

My cell phone pulled me from a dead sleep.

In fact, it took me a minute to remember where I was.

In a hotel room.

In Denver.

I rolled away from Bobby and reached for the nightstand.

"Eames," I answered, my voice a cracked whisper in the darkness.

And as soon as the name came out of my mouth, I knew that it was wrong.

I shook my head and sat up in the bed, casting a glance in the direction of the clock.

Four-fifteen.

No, make that _fucking_ four-fifteen.

Who the hell calls at this time of night?

Or morning?

Or whatever the hell it was?

Because I wasn't Eames anymore.

I didn't work for MCS.

And I did _not_ do late night call outs.

"Goren," I said more forcefully and with full-blown annoyance, especially since no one had said anything yet.

"Alex?"

It was Cathy.

I closed my eyes and drew in a deep, calming breath.

"Yeah, it's me," I said. "You're calling me, remember?"

"Did I wake you up?"

I sighed heavily and got up from the bed so that I could hopefully finish my conversation without waking up Bobby.

"Yeah," I admitted.

"Don't you have to go to work?"

"I'm not in New York," I told her. "What's going on?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was just trying to catch you before you went in. I…"

And then her voice broke and she burst into tears.

"Cathy, you need to tell me what's wrong."

"It's Travis," she said at last. "He…he's…I left him."

Mr. Wonderful.

The man to whom she had just gone a-running, leaving behind her husband and son.

Big surprise that I'd had headaches last longer than this relationship.

"Where are you now?"

"I'm at a hotel," she sniffled. "I'm going to try to talk to Steve, but I needed…I have to…I need some time first."

"You should definitely give it some time," I agreed. "He's not going to be as willing to listen if you get out of one guy's bed and then want to climb back into his."

"It's not that."

"It _is_ that. Steve needs to know that you want him back, not just that you want somebody."

"I have to wait because…because he hit me."

"What? Travis did?"

"Don't get all crazy about it, Alex. I didn't tell you so that you'd yell. I just wanted to explain why I need to wait a few days."

"Because you're bruised," I stated, and the anger rolled through me in waves.

"Yeah, a little. But I'm okay. If Steve sees me like this he'd probably go try to kill him."

"He'd have to get in line," I muttered.

"Alex, I don't want you to do anything about this. I just wanted to talk to you. Please. Be my sister instead of a cop."

So I sat on the edge of the tub in the bathroom and tried very hard _not_ to be a cop.

Because the whole time she was talking, I was trying to decide just exactly what I was going to do to Travis.

And I don't mean press charges or have him arrested.

I was debating between castration and death.

Twenty minutes later, when I finally got off of the phone with Cathy, I'd settled firmly on death.

I climbed back into the bed with Bobby, quickly seeking out his body heat to warm my now-cold skin.

But there was no way that I was going back to sleep.

That bastard had hit my sister.

I spent a restless hour in bed before getting up again to pace the room.

And then I picked up the phone.

"Lupo," was the groggy-sounding answer.

"It's Alex," I said, only feeling marginally bad for waking him up.

"Alex? What time…shit!"

There was a loud scrambling and a chorus of muttered curses and it was a long minute before Lupo got back on the phone.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I overslept. I'm supposed to be at work in fifteen minutes."

"You can tell Ross that you're doing a favor for me."

"I am?"

"I think you are now," I told him.

"What is it?"

So I laid it out for him.

He was going to arrest Travis.

At his job.

In front of his colleagues.

And he was going to be loud and obnoxious about it.

"And then what?" he asked me. "If she won't press charges, then it won't stick."

"Then you let him go."

"So the point is just to embarrass him?"

"For now," I replied.

"And if he happens to have trouble getting into the back of the car…"

"Then all the better."

"Consider it done. How's things out there?"

"Hairy," I admitted. "But I think that it's all coming together."

"Okay. Be careful."

"I will. Thanks, Lupo."

I hung up and turned to see Bobby staring at me.

"Why do I get the feeling that I've missed out on something?" he asked sleepily.

"I'll fill you in while we take a shower," I offered.

"We?" he asked hopefully.

"Come on."

An hour later, we met John and Mary in the conference room. This time, John had gotten coffee and doughnuts so my hero status was relegated to former hero.

"The wire tap is in place," Mary said while eating a doughnut. "Although so far Keyes hasn't called anyone other than his mother."

"Oh, so he's a good boy," I remarked.

"Yeah, except for the part about him being on a drug dealer's payroll," Mary added.

"Well, there is that," I agreed with a smile.

"So we're going into the police station this morning," Bobby said. "And then we're going to call you and request a meeting."

"Right," Mary replied. "We'll argue about it for awhile, but eventually I'll swear you to secrecy and agree to a meeting later tonight. John, you'll be so excited that you'll let it slip while you're talking to Keyes."

"And then what?" John asked. "What do we hope to get from this?"

"If we're right," I said. "Then Keyes will call Valero and tell him that he has confirmation that Heidi's alive. Valero will give orders of some sort, either for Keyes to follow and get a visual of her himself, or maybe to plant a tracking device on you so that he'll know where you go…"

"But he'll do something. They'll want to know where she is so that they can take her out. And whatever they discuss, we'll have it on tape," Mary finished. "That will get Keyes and Valero."

"Which leaves us with Lovell," Bobby said.

"We're going to need Rollins for that," Mary said with a nod. "If you guys can get him to give you copies of the old case files, then we can track down exactly which cases Lovell is denying involvement. Once we have proof that Lovell was blacked-out of every case involving Valero's gang members, then that'll go a long way towards showing probable cause on Lovell."

"Rollins may even still have case notes," I added. "He's going to be an integral part of this take down. If we're a hundred percent sure that he's on the right side, then we should make him aware of what's going on."

"Are we?" Mary asked as she looked around the table. "Can we be sure?"

"I'm sure," Bobby said. "He's not involved. And when he realizes how big this thing is, he'll likely be even more willing to help."

I nodded in agreement.

"And we can use another body," I added.

Mary had mentioned that her partner wasn't going to be coming. We could use some inspectors from the local office, but Rollins knew the guts of the situation, and he knew the players.

"So we're all agreed?"

We all were.

"Now what about Kara Quintana?" John asked. "Is she going to skate on everything? I mean, she's the one who got Heidi involved in this to begin with, right?"

"Once we have Valero under lock and key, then Heidi can testify as to the workings of his whole operation," Mary said.

"But won't that make her susceptible to them? What if Valero assigns someone else to take her out?"

"I'll be looking out for her," Mary assured him quietly. "I'll be bringing her to the trial and then taking her home safely. I won't let anything happen to her."

"Okay," he said slowly, giving a nod.

"And as for Kara, we don't want to pick her up just yet, but I'll make sure that someone is keeping an eye on her. If Valero gets wind that his runners are getting nabbed, then he'll know something's up."

"But you're not going to let her get away."

"No."

"And no deal for her," John said firmly.

And I didn't blame him.

Kara was ultimately the one who'd set this whole thing in motion, the one who'd introduced Heidi to Valero.

"No deals," Mary agreed with a nod.

We were all quiet for a few more minutes, drinking coffee and mentally preparing for our day.

I had to push thoughts of Cathy out of my head because I just couldn't deal with that right now, and I couldn't let it be a distraction.

Although, what in the hell had she been thinking? What was wrong with her?

"Are you okay?" Bobby whispered.

"Yeah. I'm just…"

"I'll go pay him a visit when we get back to the city."

"_You_ will?" I asked, raising my eyebrow at him.

"_We_ will," he amended with a grin.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll have a record. Lupo will pull it when he runs him through processing."

"I wonder how Ross likes you using Lupo as your personal police force," he mused.

"I should probably call and apologize for that, huh?"

"I hate to ask a stupid question here, but…" John said, interrupting whatever Bobby's response may have been.

"What's on your mind?"

"What happens if Keyes follows us? He's going to see us meet you," he said, tipping his head toward Mary. "But you mentioned that he might get instructions to get visual confirmation of Heidi. How are we going to do that?"

"It won't get that far. If we have Valero on record instructing Keyes that he wants the confirmation, then we'll have to pick up Keyes," Mary said with a shrug. "We'll have to arrest him and make him flip."

"Not to mention the fact that we'll have Valero on tape ordering a hit while he's on bail, so we can pick him up, too," I added.

"Right," Mary agreed.

"So it's all hinging on how the conversation between Keyes and Valero goes," John said.

"You've got to sell it," Bobby said. "As real, and as an accident that you let it slip."

We left the hotel within the hour after going through a role-play version of the conversations.

Bobby and I would make the call to Mary while Keyes was in earshot. Then we'd leave the room and allow Keyes to pump John for information, at which point, being the amateur that he is, John would let it come out.

Mary would be standing by, listening for what Keyes chose to do with that information.

Bobby and I would get everything we could from Rollins so that we could hopefully tie Lovell into this whole mess.

We wanted to be able to coordinate the take-downs so that no one remaining had the opportunity to jump ship.

And if everything went as planned, we might be heading back to New York tomorrow.

Where I could promptly pull my gun on Mr. Wonderful…

"Something's going on," Bobby said quietly as I pulled the car into the police station parking lot.

I'd dropped Mary off in a coffee shop down the street. She wanted to be nearby, but obviously she still couldn't be seen with us.

"Why do you say that?" John asked as we got out of the car.

"You can feel it," Bobby replied.

John looked at me for clarification, but I just nodded my head.

Bobby was right. It was _something_.

We went up the steps and inside the police station where people were gathered in small groups and speaking in hushed tones.

I spotted Keyes at the same time that he saw us, and he quickly approached.

"I just can't believe it," he said quietly.

"What is it?" I asked cautiously.

"It's just…it's…" he began, and then he ran his hand over his face as though he couldn't say the words. We gave him a moment to compose himself, and then he took a deep breath and looked me in the eye. "Rollins killed himself last night."

"What?" I nearly shouted.

"Uh huh. He shot himself with his service weapon."

I was in shock.

Why would he do something like that?"

"He left a note," Keyes continued. "It looks like he was in cahoots with Manny Valero."

And as soon as he said the words, I knew what had happened.

Rollins didn't commit suicide.

Someone had killed him.

TBC...


	39. Chapter 39

**Bobby POV**

* * *

I didn't know what to say.

But one look at Alex assured me that I wasn't crazy.

Rollins didn't kill himself.

There was no way in hell.

He'd been murdered.

Maybe Keyes had done it, and maybe not, but at the very least, he knew who had.

"At his home?" I confirmed with Keyes.

"Yeah."

"We'd like to go see the scene."

"Why?"

"Because he was helping us with an investigation and now he's dead," Alex said sharply.

"But it's a suicide. How can that be related?"

I glanced at Alex again before carefully saying, "How can it not be related? You said yourself that the note mentions ties to Valero."

"Well, yeah," he said slowly.

"So…"

"I can ask the captain," Keyes said reluctantly. "Maybe see if I can get you permission to go to the scene."

"I'll get us permission," John spoke up firmly. And then he added, "If you're not able to get approval, I mean."

And I could appreciate what John was doing. He didn't want to alienate Keyes.

Not at this stage in the game.

It was a smart move on his part, and I was glad that he'd thought to do it.

Because I was mad as hell.

And of course, I felt slightly responsible.

Did Keyes know that Rollins had confided in us yesterday?

Was he more on top of things than he seemed?

"Okay. I'll go check with the captain," Keyes told us. "Give me a few minutes."

He walked away, leaving us momentarily alone.

"Rollins desk must be bugged," Alex said quietly.

Again, I was nearly overwhelmed by how identical her thoughts were to my own.

"His desk, or something on him," I said. "Keyes knows what we talked about."

"What _did _you guys talk about?" John asked. "You didn't mention your suspicion of Keyes did you?"

"No. We talked about Lovell," I told him as I did a quick mental recall of the conversation. "We only focused on him."

"Shit," Alex muttered. "Do you think that Lovell ordered this hit? And they're setting Rollins up to look bad?"

"Yeah, but using Valero's name…doesn't that mean that he looks bad, too?" John questioned. "I thought Lovell was protecting him."

"It's no secret that Valero is bad," I explained. "It's about the evidence, and right now there's not a whole lot of evidence against Valero. If Rollins felt guilty about helping Valero get off easy on other crimes, that still doesn't mean that we can book Valero for those crimes. It might open up further investigations, but it's no sure thing."

"And it lets Lovell off the hook," Alex continued. "Any evidence of wrong-doing during those investigations can now be pawned off on Rollins."

"_And_ with Lovell bucking for a position of power, he can have more control over what happens to Valero."

"So killing Rollins was a pretty smart thing to do," John concluded. "I mean, if you're the bad guys."

"Yes it was," I agreed.

"And if Lovell _is_ dirty and he _is_ working with Keyes then that means he knows that you suspect him."

"That's true," Alex said.

"Which puts you two in danger," John stated.

"There's something new," Alex said wryly. "But the good news is that we didn't mention Heidi, so mostly our plan is still good. And considering that Lovell probably does know that we're onto him, maybe it'll flush him out sooner than we'd thought."

"We need to call Mary," I said. "You're right, the plan should still work, but we're not going to be able to stage that call this morning. We need to go to Rollins' house first."

"Why?" John asked. "You know they will have cleaned it out. Why is it so important to go now?"

"What _they_ call clean is not what _we_ call clean," Alex assured him.

And she looked at me with such pride when she said the words that it caused a wave of emotion to surge through me.

Her comment had been directed toward _me_.

_I_ would find something. _I _was that good.

And yeah, I knew that I was good.

But I really loved that she was so vocally confident in my abilities.

"Let's go," Keyes said as he walked up to us, having returned from his discussion with his captain. "I'll drive."

Getting into a car with Keyes was probably not a smart idea.

But there were three of us, two of us armed.

And there was only one of him.

_For now_.

Of course, he'd be in control of where we were going…

"We'll follow," Alex offered. "In case we want to stay longer."

"Captain says that I'm your chaperone. So it's with me or not at all."

"Let's go," I agreed with a shrug.

John sat in the front with Keyes while Alex and I got into the back.

As we pulled away from the police station, Alex got out her phone and pulled up the white pages information on Rollins.

Then she typed a text message to Mary.

She flashed me the display before she hit send.

_**Rollins is dead. We're in the car with Keyes going to the scene. 12 Shining Oak Court, Littleton. **_

I nodded, and she sent the message.

"I hope she's got a GPS," I mumbled quietly.

"Mary? I'm sure she's linking up to NASA satellites as we speak."

"So, when did this happen?" I asked loudly, turning my attention to Keyes.

"ME says around midnight."

"He shot himself in the head?" John questioned.

"Yeah. But hey, you have to stay in the car when we get there. You're a civilian."

"I know how to stay out of the way," John answered.

"I'm sure that you do. But you're still not going inside," Keyes insisted.

Alex had switched her phone to silent and kept it in her hand, so she saw right away when Mary replied.

_**I'm in the car. I'll be there as fast as I can. Don't do anything stupid.**_

"She's good," Alex said softly to me while John kept up the conversation with Keyes in the front.

"She probably drives like Jeff Gordon," I remarked.

"I have the _keys_," she reminded me.

I bit back a chuckle despite our potentially dangerous situation as I visualized Mary running from the coffee shop to the police station and first breaking into and then hot wiring the car.

And in addition to being mildly amused, I was also somewhat relieved.

One more gun to add to our list of assets.

We drove for several more minutes, and then Keyes took an exit off of the highway.

Rollins had lived in a little cookie-cutter neighborhood off the southwest side of C-470. The streets all looked the same as did the houses, and yet Keyes drove unerringly to the address.

As though he'd been there many times.

Of course, they were partners, so it would stand to reason that he'd visited Rollins in his home for innocuous reasons.

I mean, how many times did I visit Alex back when she was Eames?

_Not nearly enough_, I thought with a rueful smile.

But still, just because Keyes easily knew the way didn't mean that he was necessarily the killer.

"Have you and Rollins been partners long?" Alex asked him.

"Long enough," Keyes said, and it was the first time that I thought he actually sounded sad.

I mean, his partner had been found dead. Supposedly by his own hand.

That should've rocked Keyes to the core.

"Who found him?" I asked.

"A neighbor heard the shot," he answered.

"So there's a witness?"

"A witness to the suicide?" he asked in confusion. "No, the guy just heard a shot."

"And he called the police?"

"Not right away. I mean, as you can see, the neighborhood is in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains. A random gunshot isn't all that unusual."

"So what made him call at all?"

"Rollins' dog started barking. I guess he'd let him out before he…you know…and then around one-thirty the dog was crying to get back inside. It woke up the neighbor. He knew that Rollins would never leave Dynamite outside in these temperatures, and when he put that together with the gunshot, well…that's when he called."

"His dog's name is Dynamite?" John asked Keyes, but I didn't think that he knew the potential significance behind that name.

I looked at Alex.

She knew.

And Keyes knew, too, because he'd said the name pointedly and then caught my eye in the rear view mirror.

Dynamite was a street name for cocaine cut with heroin.

"Yeah," Keyes said slowly in answer to John's question. "Interesting, huh?"

"You think his choice of dog's name is evidence that he had ties to a drug dealer?" Alex asked, unable to hide her skepticism.

"You mean in addition to his suicide note that states the same thing?"

"Wait a minute," John said. "The dog's name has to do with drugs?"

"Maybe," Alex replied. "Or it could just be a cute name for a dog with a lot of energy."

"Besides, if Rollins would never leave the dog outside, then why didn't he let him back in the house before hand?" I posed.

"Well, here we are," Keyes deflected as he parked in front of a boxy-looking house on a small corner lot. "I'll let you see things for yourself."

The crime scene tape across the yard was about the only thing that made it look any different than the dozen or so other houses on the street.

We all got out of the car, but Keyes held a hand out in John's direction.

"I'm serious. You can't come in," he said to him.

"What's it going to hurt?" I asked.

"Boss' orders. Cops and licensed investigators only."

"Fine," John said in annoyance. "I'll wait right here."

He leaned back against the car and crossed his arms over his chest.

"We won't be too long," I told him, and then I turned and followed Keyes and Alex up to the front door.

"Where is the dog now?" Alex asked as we entered the house.

"I'm not sure. Animal control should've been called to pick him up, but…"

His words were cut off by the sound of a dog barking behind a door down the hall.

"He must still be in the basement."

"You guys just left him here?"

"He's locked up. He can't contaminate the scene," Keyes explained.

I looked around and spotted a leash hanging on a rack near the front door, so I picked it up and handed it to Alex. She then promptly pushed past Keyes and went toward the door in question.

"Don't let him run loose in here," Keyes warned.

"I'm not an idiot," Alex responded sharply as she held up the leash.

She carefully eased open the door until the dog poked his head through the crack, at which point she attached the leash to his collar.

"I'll be right back," she said to me as she led the dog out of the front door. He was a medium-sized mutt that appeared to have a little bit of golden retriever in his blood line somewhere and he also seemed to have instantly fallen in love with Alex.

Of course, who could blame him?

I glanced around the open floor plan of the living room, dining room, and kitchen portion of the home.

Nothing appeared out of order.

And when I say nothing, I mean _nothing_.

"No prints were taken?" I asked Keyes.

"For a suicide?"

"You guys are really content to call this thing a suicide just because there was a note? You know that sometimes the killer writes the note, right?"

Keyes shifted in front of me then and settled his hand on the butt of his weapon.

"I don't think I like your implication," he said.

"All I'm asking is why the scene wasn't worked. Until the ME says suicide, you have to assume otherwise."

"The ME said suicide."

"Before he got him on the table? Because there's no way that the autopsy is done already."

"It's not my place to question his professional opinion."

"Actually, it is," I began, but then Alex came in and her presence caused the tension to ease slightly.

Although she noticed the positioning of Keyes' gun hand, and she kept her distance, shifting around to my side of the room.

"What did you do with the dog?" Keyes asked without looking at her. When she didn't answer right away, he finally looked in her direction.

"He and John are bonding," she said at last. "Is everything okay in here?"

"You tell me," Keyes said, glancing back at me. "Are you done questioning how the Denver PD works a crime scene?"

"Oh, so now it's a crime scene?"

"It's a crime to commit suicide," he replied and for some reason he must have decided that he didn't want to have a show down with us at the moment because he suddenly backed off and gestured toward a doorway off the kitchen.

"Rollins' office," he explained. "That's where it happened."

_It happened_.

Not _where __he did it_.

Where_ it happened_.

I wondered if Keyes realized his own slip of the tongue.

Alex stepped between me and Keyes and walked over to the door.

I hung back, not wanting Keyes behind us.

Because how did we really know what was behind that door?

With the dog now outside, the house was completely silent.

The air was thick and still, and my internal radar was up to Defcon five.

I wondered where Mary was.

And I wondered if she'd told anyone else where we were.

I also wondered if Keyes had even gone to talk with his captain.

Or had he stepped away to call Lovell?

Or Valero?

Had they determined that Alex and I knew too much?

Because I suddenly had the overwhelming feeling that this whole damn thing was a set up.

TBC...

A/N: Happy weekend to all. And as usual, my deepest gratitude to my friend mitzvahgirl for keeping me on track.


	40. Chapter 40

**Lupo POV**

* * *

I got dressed while I was on the phone with Alex, but just because I was multi-tasking doesn't mean that I wasn't getting completely pissed off about the idea of this asshole beating up on her sister.

And I'd never even met her sister. Or the asshole.

But that was all irrelevant.

I was slightly frustrated that my hands were tied as to how much I could do to the dickhead, but Alex was right.

At least I could embarrass him at work and make him go through the humiliation of being hauled downtown.

And I could possibly get in a couple of cheap shots while loading him into the back of the car.

If I was lucky, I might even be able to goad him into taking a swing at me.

When I hung up with Alex, I told Connie what was going on.

She was rushing around the bedroom, too, because she was supposed to be in court by nine, which usually meant that she liked to hit the office no later than eight.

Which was in ten minutes.

But when I told her the scoop, she stopped, with her panty hose only pulled halfway up her legs.

"She won't press charges?"

"No. Not yet anyway. I think Alex is hoping that when she gets home she might be able to talk her sister into it, but until then…"

"Until then he gets to walk around like some big shot who thinks he has the right to just knock her around because the urge hit him, right? He gets to keep going to work without the disgrace of having a black eye or a bruised cheek. You arrest him, and then he gets released quickly, and he'll play up the story to his co-workers like he's the victim. It'll almost make it worse," she explained, and she was really worked up.

_Really_ worked up.

She and I were going to have to have a talk about this when we had more time.

"I don't know what else to do," I admitted.

She went back to work on her pantyhose and then slipped into her skirt and heels while I brushed my teeth and then stuck my head under the faucet.

When I stood back up, she was behind me, and she caught my eye in the mirror.

"I know what you can do," she said firmly.

Five minutes later, we left the apartment together. She caught a cab out front, but not before giving me a kiss.

"Let me know if you hit a snag," she told me.

"You mean I should call you if I need you to bail me out of trouble?" I said on a laugh.

"You're not doing anything illegal," she said innocently. Then she smiled and said, "But yeah."

"I will," I promised as I held the door open for her.

"And Lupo," she added.

"Yeah?"

"We'll put my place on the market. I like your place."

"Our place," I corrected.

"Right," she agreed with a smile.

Then I closed the cab door and headed for my car. I couldn't keep the grin from my face, both from her parting words and her devious plan.

I called Ross while I drove across town with the intention of explaining my tardiness.

"You know that your partner is in my office as we speak, prepared to give me an update."

"Um…didn't I give you an update last night?" I questioned hesitantly.

"A briefing over a few beers in McNally's does not count as an update, Detective!" he shouted.

Great. He was in a wonderful mood today.

"My apologies, Captain. I didn't mean to imply that I was somehow exempt…"

"Cut the crap, Detective. Where are you?"

"I'm on my way to the Bronx," I said cautiously.

"The last time I checked, the Bronx isn't on the way to 1PP from your house," he said smartly.

"No, sir, I…um…had one other thing that I…needed to do before I came in…"

"Then you should've gotten up earlier."

"Captain…"

"Did you go to the Logans' last night?"

"Yes sir."

"What did you learn?"

"Not much, really, although Carolyn is hoping that you'll authorize for her to speak with Candi Ayers today."

"Well, at least someone wants to come in to work."

"Captain…"

"Detective," he said on a heavy sigh. "Where exactly are you headed right this minute?"

"I'm going to pick up a guy who hit Alex's sister," I admitted.

Alex had to know that if I popped the guy then Ross would know, and she hadn't said that it was a secret, so I didn't feel bad about coming clean.

The silence that followed had me holding my breath until he finally spoke again.

"Is she okay?"

"Her sister? Yeah, as far as I know."

"And she's pressing charges?"

"No. Well, she's…um…sort of."

"How do you _sort of_ press charges?" he asked suspiciously, although he was being much nicer now that Alex's name had been brought into the conversation.

"The sister is pressing charges, but she doesn't exactly know it just yet."

"Detective…"

"Yes sir?"

"Stop talking," he said firmly. I wasn't sure if he meant that he didn't want me to go through with it, or if he just didn't want to know about it.

"So…I'll be there…"

"When you finish your errand."

"Yes sir."

I hung up the phone and pulled up in front of the office building of Travis Donker.

I could barely even think that name without laughing.

What was wrong with Alex's sister? They were obviously nothing alike.

I was fortunate enough to find the guy in the break room. And by fortunate I mean that since someone had brought pastries into work this morning, nearly the entire office had congregated there.

Not the bosses, of course, but the employees. All of whom would be witnesses to his mortification.

Donker looked just as I'd expected.

He was a decent looking guy, but he had what I like to call little man syndrome.

He was about five-four, and looked like he worked out. And how did I know that? Because his clothing, even though it was slacks and a dress shirt, was tight enough to show it off.

I watched him briefly as he talked with a group of his colleagues. He clearly liked to be the center of attention and at the moment, he was. He was older than his peers, which most likely meant that he'd been passed up for promotions, and that was probably a source of bitterness for him.

Basically, he was an under-achieving, arrogant, white-collar snob who thought that the world owed him some kind of great debt.

I glanced at his right hand as he used it to gesture while he was telling a story of some sort of miraculous feat he'd accomplished. There was a heavy ring on his finger, and his knuckles were red. Not bloody or anything, but still…

The sight of his knuckles, and the thought of the ring, and the memory of Connie's passionate distaste for the mere thought of physical abuse…well all of that combined to get me riled up.

I crossed the room quickly and grabbed him by the arm.

"Travis Donker, you are under arrest," I said loudly, and then I whirled him around and shoved him face first into the wall.

"Arrest? For what?" he asked with false bravado as I wrenched on the handcuffs. I tightened them much more than was necessary and then proceeded to pat him down as though I expected to find a set of brass knuckles in the pockets of his tailor-made Italian slacks.

"The aggravated assault of Cathy Stromer," I told him.

The room was filled with shocked gasps and muttered speculation. I loved it.

"What? I…I…No, there's no way!"

"Oh yeah. There is. Your threats didn't keep her from pressing charges, so let's go. You can call your lawyer from downtown."

"This has to be some kind of a mistake."

"I think it is," I agreed, as I jerked him towards me. "It's a mistake that a no-nuts jerk off like you thinks he can treat women any way he wants and not have to answer for it."

So then I walked him through the office, down the elevator, and across the lobby.

Slowly and deliberately.

And then I opened up the back door of my car.

"Watch your head," I told him, but as I said it, I shoved him, throwing him slightly off-balance so that he cracked the top of his head on the door frame.

"Yeah that hurts, doesn't it?" I asked rhetorically as he cried out in pain.

I walked around the car and got into the driver's side and then started up the engine.

"I'll have your badge," he told me sharply as I pulled away from the curb.

"I seriously doubt that."

"Since when does a detective make assault arrests?"

"Since this detective is friends with the sister of the woman you hit," I replied. "So what did she do that set you off, huh? Dinner wasn't ready on time?"

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about. I did not do anything wrong. She…never mind. I want a lawyer."

"You'll get your lawyer after you're processed," I assured him. "But please, finish. She _what_?" I asked. "She laughed when she saw the size of your penis?"

I watched as Donker's face turned an unhealthy shade of red at my insult, and he started wrestling with the cuffs as though he thought he could escape.

I almost hoped that he did.

"You talk a big game, detective. But if I weren't in handcuffs…"

"If you weren't in handcuffs, what?" I asked mockingly. "You'd hit me? I don't think so, pal. I have a feeling that Cathy is a lot smaller than me. Is that why you hit her? Because you weren't afraid of her fighting back?"

He didn't respond, but instead pointedly turned his head and looked out the window.

"That was your mistake," I continued. "Because Cathy might not fight back, but you haven't met her sister."

Thirty minutes later, I arrived at 1PP. On my desk was the arrest warrant for Travis Donker.

Connie could get into a lot of trouble for signing off on it with no complaining witness, and ultimately, it would get tossed.

But that would be after he sat in lock up for awhile. Possibly even over night.

I glanced at the official document, and to my surprise it didn't have Connie's signature on it.

It had Cutter's.

_Definitely not as much of an ass as I'd previously thought_.

So with a smile on my face, I took Donker to lock-up. When I got back into the squad room, Bernard was at his desk, and Ross was standing next to it.

"Did you get everything taken care of?" Ross asked me.

"It went well," I confirmed.

"Good. Now don't be late again, Detective. I can't be seen playing favorites."

"Oh, are we your favorites, Cap?" Bernard asked.

Ross rolled his eyes and held out a paper for me.

"I made arrangements for a meeting with Candi," he said. "Call Carolyn and get her over here, but at least one of you needs to observe since Carolyn's a civilian."

"No problem, Cap," I assured him.

**

* * *

**

Logan POV

Despite our late night, Carolyn and I were in the office by nine-thirty.

"It smells like Jack in here," I commented as I followed her into the kitchen.

"I'm sure John was here," she replied as she pulled out the coffee grounds. "Alex said he'd been drinking more, didn't she?"

"Yeah. I wonder why he doesn't answer my calls."

"He's probably worried about your reaction," she reasoned. She crossed the room to toss the old filter into the trash, and when she opened the lid, I saw her tilt her head in curiosity.

"What is it?"

"The source of the smell," she answered. "There's broken glass in here, from a bottle of whiskey."

"They broke a bottle?" I asked as I joined her to peer into the trash can. "I wonder what else they do when we're not here."

"I'm pretty sure that I don't want to know," she said on a laugh.

"Why? What do you think they do?"

"What do we do when they're not here?"

"We work," I said firmly, although I couldn't stop the grin.

I grabbed her from behind as she was scooping fresh coffee into the clean filter, causing her to spill some onto the counter.

"Uh huh. And Bobby will come back in here, and sniff out the spilled grounds, and then he'll question what _we_ do…"

"Well, all work and no play makes Mike a dull boy."

"Mike is anything but dull. Now get to work," she said as she shoved me in the general direction of my office. "I'll bring you some coffee when it's ready, and then we can finish analyzing those phone records."

"I'll do a quick pass through the mail first," I told her as I grabbed the small stack off of the kitchen table and then headed down the hall.

The Gorens had only been gone for a couple of days, but I didn't like to let things pile up.

People tend to assume that I'm a bit of a slob just because I'm a little rough around the edges, but I'm really not. I like things to be orderly.

So I powered up my laptop and then spent the next several minutes going through the correspondence. There was nothing of any significance, so then I checked email. I had nearly three hundred.

"Damn, I haven't even been gone a week," I muttered as I started weeding out the junk.

"How many did you get?" Carolyn asked as she entered my office. She put a steaming mug on my desk and then took a sip from hers.

"Two hundred and ninety-three," I answered. "Although it looks like at least two hundred and ninety of them want to tell me how to get a larger penis."

She nearly spit out her coffee at my apparently unexpected joke.

"Those must have come to you by mistake," she said coyly once she had herself under control. "Because I don't think there is any need…"

She'd walked around my desk while she was talking and was just about to sit on my lap when my cell phone rang.

"Ah, back in the real world," she mumbled as she stepped away from me. "Take your call. I'll bring my laptop in here and we can work together on those records."

I held my phone in my hand as I watched her walk away, and then I answered the call.

"Logan."

"It's Lupo."

"I'm just getting started. I don't have anything more yet," I told him.

"Well I do," he said. "Ross made arrangements for Carolyn to have a sit-down with Candi."

"This morning?"

"Yeah. How soon can you guys get over here?"

"Thirty minutes," I told him. "I'll bring the records so that we can keep working that angle while she does her thing."

"Sounds good."

Twenty-five minutes later, Carolyn and I were cleared into 1PP. We went up to the eleventh floor and found Lupo and Bernard in the squad room.

"Candi's ready for you," Lupo said to Carolyn. "Mike, can you bring Bernard up to speed on our system for mapping out the phone tree?"

"I don't need a babysitter," Carolyn told Lupo when he stood up to go with her into the interview room.

"Yes you do, Carolyn."

I looked up and saw that Ross had come out of his office.

"Captain, I've done hundreds of interviews," she argued.

"And you got into a brawl with this girl the last time you saw her," he reminded her. "Besides, it's the commissioner's orders. If we're going to use you guys, you have to be supervised. At least once in a while."

We couldn't argue with him, especially considering that we weren't officially on this hit man case anyway, so Carolyn and Lupo went down the hall.

"You think she'll get the girl to spill it?" Bernard asked me as I began spreading out papers across the two desks.

"If it's there to be spilled," I said. "Did Lupo mention Candi's lawyer?"

"Yeah, Kris Filson," he answered. "I looked her up."

"And what did you find?"

"Nothing specific."

"But…" I encouraged.

"But her last three clients' names had _the_ in them."

"_The_?"

"It's a regular who's who of Italian mafia," he said. "Vinny the Boot, Tony the Nose, and Nicco the Face."

"Nicco the Face?" I asked with mild amusement. "Where do these guys get their names?"

"Nicco likes to say it's because if you cross him, then his face is the last thing you'll see."

"So he's a killer."

"All three of them are," he clarified as he started typing into his computer. "And Kris Filson got them all acquitted."

"So how does that link up to Candi?"

"I'm still working on that, but…holy shit," he mumbled.

He sat back in his chair and looked at the monitor for a minute before he spun it around to face me.

"Check out Nicco's account," he said.

His bank account.

As of four days ago, it was suddenly five thousand dollars richer.

TBC...


	41. Chapter 41

**Lupo POV**

* * *

I was curious to witness Carolyn's interrogation technique. She has a unique style and I'm always open to learning new methods.

So I watched with interest through the two-way mirror as she entered the room and sat down across from Candi and her lawyer, Kris Filson.

She then spent the next several minutes just looking at them. Both of the other women began to get fidgety until finally the lawyer spoke up.

"_**I'm not sure why we're here. Nothing has changed. My client doesn't want to talk."**_

"_**I think that a lot has changed,"**_ Carolyn said quietly, locking her gaze onto Candi. _**"Hasn't it, Candi? You didn't know that you were going to get into this mess. You just wanted to help out your boyfriend, right?"**_

"_**Detective…"**_

"_**I'm not a detective, and please don't interrupt me again," **_Carolyn told the lawyer firmly.

Her sudden change in tone was effective in shutting the attorney up, and then she just as quickly switched back to a low, soothing monotone diction.

"_**Mike asked you to help him steal Testarossa's money, so you did, right? And you got April to help you. I can understand that. I mean, I know that I'd do anything for my husband. Even if it meant breaking the law. That's love, right?"**_

Candi still didn't speak, but she did nod slowly.

"_**So you got the money. But you told Detective Lupo that you gave April ten grand. That's not true, though, is it?"**_

"_**He kept pushing me,"**_ she answered softly. _**"He came to where I **_**work**_**. I **_**know**_** those people."**_

"_**And you have a reputation to maintain. I get it. It's a tough business, and you can't seem like you're just going to spout off to the cops any time they ask you a question."**_

"_**Right."**_

"_**You only gave April five grand, is that right?"**_

Candi nodded again, and I could see that Filson was getting agitated. Which was interesting, especially considering what Bernard had learned about her this morning.

"_**I'm not sure where this line of questioning is going,"**_ Filson said.

"_**This isn't a trial. I can ask questions, and she can answer, right Candi? I'm just trying to find out the truth here. I'm not trying to get you locked up. Even Detective Lupo doesn't want that. He doesn't care about you pointing a shot gun at him. He understands that you were afraid."**_

_**"I was. Because once Testarossa had Mike killed, then I knew for sure that he knew, you know? And then I figured that I was next."**_

_**"So what was your plan for the money? You had ten in your apartment. You gave five to April. Where's the other five?"**_

_**"I want immunity."**_

Candi's simple statement filled me with dread.

She must have paid the five for the hit. Otherwise why would she care about immunity?

Unless she was into something else…which of course, with this girl was entirely possible.

_**"I can't promise you anything. I'm not with the DA's office. But I can tell them that you were helpful. And it's not too late. If you've paid for something that hasn't happened, and you help us stop it, then that will go a long way towards you getting a lighter sentence."**_

_**"But it probably **_**has**_** already happened. Or, I think that it **_**is**_** happening now."**_

_**"I think we're done here,"**_ Filson said, getting up from the table.

_**"No, we're not. Sit down."**_

_**"You can't force my client to talk to you."**_

_**"And you can't force her to stop talking to me. She hasn't asked for the meeting to end."**_

I heard a knock on the interview room door. I watched Mike go in to talk with Carolyn as Bernard came into the room with me.

"What's up?" I asked him.

"Nicco the Face had five grand deposited into his account on Monday."

"Shit. So they hired him to kill Alex."

"Uh uh. Nicco's in jail."

"What? Since when? Didn't you tell me that Filson's last three clients got off?"

"Yep. But Nicco was on parole from a stretch he did two years ago. He got popped for violating. Filson hasn't been able to do anything about that. In fact, so far, he hasn't retained counsel."

"When did he get popped?"

"Last week."

"And now he's got an extra five grand in his account?"

"Which brings him to a balance of five thousand and nineteen dollars and twenty-three cents," Bernard said wryly.

"Is that what Mike is telling her?" I asked Bernard, tipping my head toward the interrogation room where the two Logans had their heads together.

"Uh huh. But I'm not sure where that gets us. Why would Candi pay five large to a guy who's in prison?"

"Did she know that he'd been picked up?"

_**"Candi, what do you know about a man named Nicco the Face?"**_ Carolyn asked.

_**"I thought that we were here to talk about the missing money," **_Filson said sharply.

_**"We are,"**_ Carolyn said. _**"Isn't that right, Candi? That's where the other five grand went, isn't it? You paid Nicco the Face to commit murder."**_

_**"Yes," **_the girl admitted softly.

_**"You know that he's in jail right? How good is a hit man when he's behind bars?"**_ Mike asked her.

_**"How else could he make the hit?"**_ Candi asked him in confusion.

_**"The hit on Alex Goren?"**_

_**"No. On Testarossa." **_

"What the hell is going on?" Bernard asked rhetorically as we both headed for the door. "She put a hit on Testarossa?"

"I guess," I answered in bewilderment. We both hustled to the captain's office where we entered without knocking.

"Cap, you need to call over to Rikers," Bernard said.

"What's going on?"

"There's a hit on Testarossa. You need to let them know."

"Candi paid the money to have _him_ killed?"

"That's what it looks like. The guy's name is Nicco Fantana, aka Nicco the Face."

We both stood in silence and watched as Ross dialed the number for the warden at Rikers.

It wasn't like losing Testarossa was going to be a great blow to society, but still…I wasn't in the business of standing idly by while someone got killed.

Even a low-life like him.

But two minutes later, I learned that we were too late.

And I wondered if Candi had known that too.

I barreled out of Ross' office and through the squad room, past where Mike and Carolyn were waiting in the hall. Bernard was hot on my heels, and once we passed them, so were the Logans.

"You purposely waited until today so that the job would get done, didn't you?" I shouted as I flung open the door of the interrogation room. Candi and her lawyer had apparently been instructed to wait. "That's why you lied about April. You were just buying yourself some more time while we tracked that down!"

"What are you so upset about, Detective? Testarossa was a snake."

"He was a human being," I retorted. "It's not up to you to decide who lives and who dies."

"He was a sleazy bastard who made my life a living hell," she snapped back.

"He was in prison!"

"Yeah, sure, _now_. And even behind bars, he was instructing that slime ball brother of his on exactly how to cheat us out of our money."

"Sugar, you couldn't just find another place to take your clothes off?" Bernard asked her. "You had to hire a goon to kill the man?"

"It's not that simple! And it wasn't just that. He told Mike. He _told_ him, after he promised that he wouldn't!"

"Told him what?"

"Forget it," she said on an annoyed sigh. "It doesn't matter. It's done. Throw some more charges at me. Whatever."

"He told Mike what?" I asked again.

"About the exchanges. He told him that I…you know."

"Isn't that what Stoat expected you to do?"

"He loved me. He would never ask me to do that."

"Then why did you?"

"Because Testarossa made me. He said that otherwise he wouldn't give Mike the phone."

"And that made it worth it? You couldn't find another go-between?"

"He said that if I _didn't_ do it, he'd tell Mike that I _did_. So you see, I _had_ to so that he wouldn't tell him."

"But he told him anyway."

"Yeah."

"So you had him killed."

"I'm not sorry," she insisted defiantly. "He killed Mike. And he humiliated me. And he was a piece of shit pimp of a boss. So fuck him. I hope he rots in hell."

We all stood in silence for a minute as the reality of the situation settled in.

The five grand had been used to kill Testarossa.

And now he was dead.

So why was there information on Alex in Stoat's phone?

"What about Alex Goren?" I asked Candi.

"What about her?"

"Stoat was planning on having her killed."

"Maybe. I don't know."

"Why did you steal twenty grand? What's the other ten for?"

"It's for me," she said sharply.

"For you?" Logan asked her.

"Yeah. So I can quit stripping. Is that so hard to believe?"

"Why just ten?" Carolyn asked reasonably. "Why not steal more? Especially if you were going to have him killed."

"That was all I could get," she admitted.

"And you don't know anything about a hit request on Alex Goren," I stated. "Stoat didn't ask you to pay that money to anyone, or to offer information to anyone…"

"Nothing, okay? I swear. Mike gave me her name," she said, tilting her head toward her lawyer.

"Ms. Ayers!" the lawyer shouted.

"What? You think I'm going down by myself?"

"I think you need a new lawyer," I told Candi.

"Fine. I'll get another one. You're fired," she said to Filson.

"Do you want another one right now?" I asked her.

"No, I'll give you my statement. Mike gave me Kris' number. He said that she would know some guys who might be interested in doing the hit."

"The Testarossa hit," I clarified, still not completely convinced that it was the only hit on the table.

"Yes," she said in irritation. "That's the hit. So I called Kris, and she told me about Nicco the Face. She even made the arrangements. He agreed to violate his parole to get thrown in prison for a few months, and all I had to do was put five grand into his bank account."

"And what's your cut?" Bernard asked the lawyer.

"I'm invoking my right to an attorney," she said quietly.

"She throws stuff their way all the time," Candi offered. "Or at least, that's what Mike said. And I knew that she'd made the contact with Nicco, so when you guys picked me up, I told her that she had to help me for free or I'd talk."

"But you talked anyway," I stated, wondering if she got the irony of the similarities between her and her nemesis Testarossa.

"Hey, the bitch is on her own, okay? She didn't do me no favors."

Bernard stepped out into the hall and called a couple of uniforms in to take Candi and Filson away.

Once they were gone, the four of us looked at each other, all of us somewhat shell-shocked by the latest developments.

"So Testarossa is dead," Logan said. "I've got to say it. I don't completely disagree with Candi."

"She hired a guy to kill him," I reminded him.

"Yeah, but he was a real piece of work. I'm not going to be crying over him. Stoat, either. They were both just as bad behind bars as they were in the real world. I keep half expecting to hear that Stoat's come back to life, still set on his mission to ruin Bobby's life."

"I saw him on Rodgers' table," I said as I finally began to feel some of the tension leave me. Logan was right. I didn't condone how it had happened, but the end result was not going to break my heart. "I can't picture Stoat coming back from that."

"Yeah, but have you seen some of those cheesy horror movies?" he joked. "The bad guy comes back, with a knife still sticking out of his head…"

"So is this it?" Bernard asked, chuckling at Logan's descriptiveness. "No more case, huh?"

"Detectives," Ross said as he entered the room. "I think it's safe to say that you have wrapped up your investigation. No money was paid out for Alex. No request was made. And the hit that everyone's been talking about was actually Testarossa."

"So it's safe for them to come home," Carolyn said.

"Looks like it," I said.

"I'll make the call," Mike offered. "I've been needing to catch up with John anyway, so I can kill two birds with one stone."

"Nice work, Detectives," Ross said to me and Bernard. Logan stepped to the side and pulled out his cell phone.

"It would've been better if we'd figured it out an hour ago," I commented.

Testarossa had been shivved while in the yard not more than thirty minutes prior to Ross' phone call.

"You worked hard. You did your best," Ross reminded me.

"I don't think I like this," Mike said as he tucked his phone back into his pocket.

"What is it?" Carolyn asked him.

"I called Bobby and Alex and John. All three phones go straight to voice mail."

TBC...


	42. Chapter 42

**Alex POV**

* * *

"I'll be right back," I said as I walked Dynamite to the front door of the house.

It was thoughtless and callous of the Denver PD to have left the poor thing locked up in the basement. It didn't take but a minute to follow proper procedure when an animal was involved.

I figured that I would take him out to John while he waited for us. And I wanted to take the opportunity of being out from under Keyes' watchful eye to check on Mary's progress.

"That must be Dynamite," John said as I came down the sidewalk.

"It is. Want to keep an eye on him while we check out the house?"

"Sure," he said, promptly squatting down to get at eye level with the dog. I handed over the leash and looked at my cell phone.

"I don't have a signal," I remarked. "Do you?"

He pulled his out, and then shook his head.

"Nothing," he confirmed.

"And no sign of Mary?" I asked as I looked down the street.

"No. She knows where we are?"

"I gave her the address."

"I'm sure she'll be here."

"Okay. I'm going back in. Something's off about this whole thing and it's more than just the fact that Rollins was killed. Keep your eyes open, okay?"

"I'll be fine," he assured me, and then he slipped into dog-talk voice as he rubbed the dog's ears. "Won't we Dynamite? We'll be just fine."

I couldn't help but smile considering that John was dressed in a pair of pants that probably cost more than I make in a week, and yet he was crouched down, letting the dog put his snowy front paws up on John's thigh.

I went back into the house in time to hear Keyes get defensive.

"It's not my place to question his professional opinion."

"Actually, it is," Bobby began, but then he saw me and he seemed to relax slightly.

It wasn't just me. This situation had him on edge, too.

I glanced over at Keyes and realized that he had his jacket back, exposing his gun, and his hand rested on the butt. I changed tracks, moving closer to Bobby, and I eased my jacket back as well.

"What did you do with the dog?" Keyes asked me. He kept his eyes on Bobby, and I wondered what I had missed in the few minutes I'd been outside.

Instead of answering, I waited until I had his attention. Things were getting out of hand here, and we all needed to relax.

"He and John are bonding," I said once he was looking at me. "Is everything okay in here?"

"You tell me," Keyes said, glancing back at Bobby. "Are you done questioning how the Denver PD works a crime scene?"

Ah, so that's what was going on.

No black powder marks.

Nothing out of order.

No search had been done of the premises and no evidence had been gathered.

Officially, anyway.

I had no doubt that Rollins' personal belongings had been gone through with a fine-toothed comb.

"Oh, so now it's a crime scene?" Bobby retorted, and I got a kick out of the fact that he sounded like me.

"It's a crime to commit suicide," Keyes replied lamely, but then he stepped back and waved his hand toward a door on the far side of the kitchen. "Rollins office. That's where it happened."

Interesting choice of words, and not normally the terminology used when referring to a suicide.

I didn't like the feel of the room.

I didn't like the way things were playing out.

And I really didn't like that I had no cell service and no idea if we had any back-up on the way.

I decided that I wanted to go in first.

If danger was inside of the room, then I would handle it.

If the danger was from Keyes, then Bobby would have my back.

So I stepped between Bobby and Keyes and walked over to the door.

Bobby caught my intent because I didn't hear a sound as I approached the door. He had stood fast in his spot, and then I heard the slight gait of Detective Keyes.

Bobby was still just watching. I had no doubt that he could have his gun out in a split second if the need arose.

The house was quiet as I reached for the knob.

I kept thinking _this is a set up, this is a set up_…but I still had to open the door.

So I did.

The smell of blood hit me first.

But I'm no stranger to that particular scent, so it didn't keep me from entering the room.

There was a large desk sitting in the back corner. When sitting at it, Rollins would've had his back to a wall, and a view of both the door to the office and the window that overlooked the back yard.

The chair behind the desk was black leather. The wall was taupe with a vast spatter pattern of brownish-red stain and gray matter.

Brain splatter.

The missing evidence from Heidi's crime scene photo was painfully obvious here.

"Did you recover the bullet?" I asked without looking back. I knew that Keyes had come in behind me.

"Presumably still in the victim," he answered.

I wasn't sure how he could be standing there so calmly talking about the bullet in his partner's head.

Unless maybe it didn't bother him because he was the one who'd put it there.

"Casing?" Bobby asked from the doorway.

I knew that he wanted to look around, but he was waiting for me so that we weren't both in the room, vulnerable, at the same time.

"On the floor next to the chair."

"The gun was still in his hand?"

"It was on the floor, too."

I walked around behind the desk and stopped. Blood was on the floor, and the chair was pulled away from the desk, angled toward the door.

I scanned over the desk, but there was nothing of any significance on the surface.

An electric bill.

A request for a donation.

A bank statement.

I leaned over and took a closer look at the bank statement. He had a balance of less than three hundred dollars.

"The note is in evidence?" Bobby asked.

"Yes."

"Can you show me the rest of the house?" I asked Keyes suddenly.

I wanted Bobby to get a closer look at the items on the desk. I wanted to know what Rollins' finances looked like.

And just because I suspected Keyes as being dirty didn't mean that I didn't need to keep an open mind about Rollins' involvement too.

Keyes looking guilty didn't automatically make Rollins innocent.

We had to look thoroughly at everyone.

Rollins had to have more money somewhere because the electric bill on the desk was for more money than he currently had in his bank account. I wondered how much more money he had.

Could he really have been on Valero's payroll?

Or had we just scared Lovell into tying up loose ends?

"Sure," Keyes said, and he sounded relieved.

Like maybe he was afraid that I would've found something.

Bobby stepped out of the doorway and let us pass, but I gave him a look on my way by and he lingered in the room.

"I'll catch up in a minute," he said.

Keyes was hesitant, clearly not crazy about leaving Bobby behind, but I didn't give him a choice because I headed for the hallway.

He couldn't keep an eye on both of us. So he followed me.

Probably because more time had been spent in the office than in the rest of the house.

If there was something to be found, then that was the likely location, so it had surely been thoroughly examined. He must have been confident in his search of that room, but not so sure about what was in the rest of the house.

I kept up a stream of inane questions while I looked through the remainder of the two-bedroom home. I wanted to keep Keyes relaxed and keep his mind off of whatever Bobby was doing.

Besides, if he was going to try to kill us, wouldn't he have done it by now?

I heard the dog barking outside, and I figured that Mary had finally arrived.

Although Keyes noticed it, too, so he headed for the front door.

I followed.

He looked through the windows next to the door.

I hoped that Mary was smart enough to park down the street.

And then I chastised myself for that thought.

Mary was good.

Of _course_ she was smart enough.

I stepped up to the window on the other side of the door and looked outside.

Dynamite was on the front porch, barking to come inside. The handle end of his leash was flailing out behind him.

I looked farther down the walk to where Keyes' car was parked.

My heart started to pound at the danger which had come from a completely unexpected direction.

I quickly stepped back from the window and drew my gun on Keyes.

"Alex, what are you doing?" he asked me as he held his hands up in supplication.

"Where is he?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Alex?" Bobby asked as he came into the room.

He drew his gun, too, and together we faced down Keyes, who at this point had made no move for his weapon.

That almost made me more nervous.

"Bobby," I breathed out, grateful that he was once again by my side. "There's blood on the snow next to the car. And John's gone."

"You can see blood from here?" Keyes asked as he turned back toward the window.

"That's not really the question that you should be asking," I said. "What did you do with him?

"What did _I _do with him? I've been in here with you two the whole time," he answered. "What did _you_ do to him? You were the last one out there."

He turned to face us again and this time he reached for his gun.

"Don't even think about it," Bobby told him. "You need to start talking."

"Hey, I'm a local cop. You two are the hotshots from out of town. How do I know that _you're _not behind this? You were both pretty pissed off at Rollins. You think maybe this wasn't a suicide? Okay, how about this. Maybe you two followed him back here after work last night and killed him and then set it up to look like a suicide. And maybe your friend John found out about it, so now you've taken care of him, too."

"That's ridiculous," I said. "If we killed Rollins, then why would we be the ones insisting that it wasn't a suicide?"

"I don't know. But why are you both holding me at gun point? You know I didn't have anything to do with whatever's happened to John. I've been _right here_."

"I'm going outside to check it out," I said to Bobby.

Because it was possible that maybe Mary had shown and he was with her.

But that was remote.

It didn't explain the blood, and it didn't explain why the dog was loose again.

But I also couldn't figure out why Mary wasn't here yet. She should've been. We'd been here for nearly half an hour, and yet she'd said that she wasn't far behind us.

I cautiously went through the front door while Bobby kept Keyes covered. I was greeted enthusiastically by the dog, but I couldn't allow myself to be distracted, so I tied his leash to the post on the front porch before easing down the steps.

The neighborhood was fairly wide open, with few trees which was a good thing as far as I was concerned. Not many hiding places for anyone lurking about.

The street was quiet, with no one in sight in either direction. I made it to the car, and I knelt down for a closer look at the blood on the snow.

There wasn't a lot, although the starkness of bright red against white made it seem worse. If I had to guess, I'd say that John took a punch to the nose.

I made note of the myriad of tracks in the snow, but it was difficult to determine at a glance which ones had been made by people who were accounted for as to which may have been made by an unknown assailant.

A noise around the side of the house had me halting my inspection and circling the car for cover.

I waited for a long minute, and then made my way in the direction of the noise. I was out in the open and could easily be picked off if someone so chose, but fortunately, I got to the side of the house unscathed.

There were tracks in the snow that led around to the back, so I followed them around the corner.

And ran into Mary.

"What the hell is going on?" she whispered harshly after breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of me. "If it weren't for Keyes' car out front, I'd have thought that you'd all left and no one's answering their cell phones."

"You didn't see John?" I asked her.

"No," she said, instantly reading my concern. "I parked on the next street over and walked through the yards. When I got here, the car was empty, and the dog was on the porch barking. I was coming around to look through windows."

"Bobby's inside with Keyes. He's in this, without a doubt. But John's gone."

"Shit," she muttered, and then she turned a full circle, kicking at the snow. "Shit! Keyes must have known that you guys were suspicious. He reported to Valero."

"And Lovell. They killed Rollins," I reminded her.

"They're closing ranks. And they're willing to sacrifice Keyes."

"So what's their next move?"

"They'll try to deal."

"John for Heidi?"

"That's my guess."

"Yeah, but we know what's going on, too. They're not going to let us just walk away."

"I would bet that Keyes is under orders to kill you."

"He had us alone in there for thirty minutes. He hasn't made any kind of move."

"They need you to make the deal," she clarified. "They'll offer to give John back once they have Heidi."

And then I realized what she was saying.

"And when we give up Heidi, they kill us all."

TBC...


	43. Chapter 43

**Mary POV**

* * *

It wasn't often that I had a use for lights and sirens.

I liked them, but my job usually involved subtlety.

Secrecy.

Subterfuge.

Hence the lack of need for sirens.

And really, today wasn't much different. I didn't need to advertise my presence.

But I did need to hurry the hell up.

And Friday morning traffic on C-470 had me cursing. Of all the times to get held up in traffic. It was taking me forever to get to the southwest corner of town, and it was because of goddamn construction.

And then when I was finally able to exit and get onto a supposedly faster side street, a flagman had stopped traffic to allow passage from the other direction.

Which added considerable time to my trip.

Time that it might not have taken Keyes, depending on which direction was moving when he got to this point.

What made it worse was that for the past fifteen minutes, no one was responding to my text messages. I hoped that only meant that they were in an area with crappy service as opposed to the idea that maybe something had gone wrong.

And the other big kicker was that I couldn't decide about back up.

Should I call someone?

If so, who did I trust?

Was something wrong at Rollins' house, wrong enough for me to bring in other people?

Or was everything going just peachy and I was freaking out for nothing?

Damn, I wished that Marshall was here.

I wished that John would answer his cell.

And I wished that I knew a hell of a lot more about what was going on.

Because at the moment, all I knew was what Alex had texted me. Rollins was dead, and they were going to his house.

I had to assume that he'd been killed, which didn't bode well for our situation.

Because if they were willing to start popping off cops, then they were in desperation mode.

"Answer the goddamn phone!" I shouted as John's phone instead went to voice mail for the fifth time in a row.

I slammed the phone down into the cup holder and cursed a blue streak as I finally turned into the subdivision. I passed a car as I made the next turn, but other than that I didn't see a soul.

I made a last turn onto a road that was parallel to the address that I had for Rollins. I couldn't just show up with guns blazing. If things _hadn't_ gone to hell then I needed to stay under the radar.

I parked even with Rollins' house. I could see the front of the house and I recognized Keyes' car. There was a dog lying in the front yard who appeared to be chewing on something.

But I didn't see any people at all.

I quickly and quietly skirted the house that I'd parked in front of with my gun drawn. I hoped that no one was watching through a window because if so they would undoubtedly call 9-1-1 to report a crazy lady with a gun.

Although maybe more cops would be a good thing.

_Although _would_ it be a good thing_?

Or would it be more cops like Keyes, who were bought and paid for?

I crossed the road and peered into Keyes' car.

Nothing was out of the ordinary.

I started to walk around the car, but then the dog stood up. I quickly squatted down and peeked around the bumper as he trotted up the front porch steps.

I was afraid that he would catch my scent, but apparently he was more worried about getting in out of the cold than he was interested in me.

He started barking at the front door, and I took the moment of his distraction to go one house over and then slip into the side yard.

I needed to see inside the house.

And for some reason, the overall silence of the neighborhood had me suddenly terrified that I was going to look through the window and find that a massacre had occurred.

I carefully moved from the side yard of the house next door over into the adjoining yard of Rollins. And then I heard the front door open, so I dropped down to my knees and listened intently.

Nothing. No voices. But the dog stopped barking.

Was it Keyes leaving? Or was it Valero? Or Lovell?

I hated ignorance more than just about anything in the world and yet here I was – completely ignorant.

I waited in my hiding spot as I listened to footsteps crunch through the snow across the front yard. It was only one set of footsteps and if I had to guess, I'd say it was a light person.

Did Alex ever go anywhere without Bobby?

She certainly wouldn't leave this house without him. Not unless something had happened…

It was silent for a moment and I strained my ears to pick up any sound, but there was nothing. I had to see who was out there. If it was Keyes, and he'd done something, I certainly couldn't let him escape.

I stood up to look around the corner, but I brushed up against a bush and a rush of snow fell to the ground.

_Shit_.

I held my breath and stood still, but then I heard the footsteps fast approaching so I hustled around to the back of the house.

I paused and realized that I was being overtaken quickly, so instead of continuing to run, I turned to face my adversary.

It was Alex.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked quietly after breathing out a sigh of relief. "If it weren't for Keyes' car out front, I'd have thought that you'd all left and no one's answering their cell phones."

"You didn't see John?" she asked. My heart dropped.

I _knew_ something was wrong here.

_Damn it_.

I told her what little bit I'd seen since I arrived, and she told me that Bobby had Keyes inside and that John was missing.

"Shit," I said, apparently incapable of saying anything of value.

Just swear words.

But they helped me think, so I kicked at the snow and said it again.

"Keyes must have known that you guys were suspicious," I continued. "He reported to Valero."

"And Lovell. They killed Rollins," she stated.

This was coming to a head faster than we'd anticipated. John had done such a good job of selling Keyes on the fact that Heidi was alive that he'd already reported it.

He must have done it before we got the tap.

And now they apparently thought that they could strong arm the Gorens into making contact with Heidi and exchanging her for John.

As if they'd ever do that. As if _he'd _ever allow them to do that.

"I would bet that Keyes is under orders to kill you," I told Alex.

"He had us alone in there for thirty minutes. He hasn't made any kind of move."

"They need you to make the deal," I said. "They'll offer to give John back once they have Heidi."

"And when we give up Heidi, they kill us all."

"Or at least that's what _their_ plan is," I said. "I don't know about you, but I'd like to see this whole thing turn out differently."

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

It felt like Alex was gone forever as I stood in the foyer and kept my gun pointed at Keyes. I'd already confiscated his weapon and put him in handcuffs, despite his threats of arrest for false imprisonment.

After a moment, he'd settled down and jut leaned back against the wall.

"You killed Rollins, didn't you?" I asked him.

"He killed himself," he replied with a smile.

"You mean because he talked to us. He wrote his own death warrant by admitting to us that he thought maybe Lovell was dirty. How much does he pay you to clean up after him?"

"Lovell? Nothing."

"Okay, Valero then."

"Is this where I'm supposed to confess to everything?" Keyes asked me sarcastically. "I'm going to tell you how the whole thing went down so that you can have that sense of fulfillment? It doesn't matter, you know."

"What doesn't matter?"

"Whether you know or not. I could tell you everything or nothing. You're still not going to make it out of this alive."

"That's a bold statement considering that I'm the one holding the gun."

"And I'm the one who knows where your friend is. I'm the one who knows how to get in touch with the people who are holding him."

"So Valero took him."

"Valero doesn't do much of anything himself. He has people who do things for him."

"Like you," I said. "And Lovell. Valero was pretty smart, buying himself the next mayor. How did he manage to get him anyway?"

"They go way back."

"You mean like you and Valero? You begged for your life and gave him your soul while your partner was bleeding out on the street."

"Where did you hear about that?"

"I know a lot of things."

"It didn't happen like that," he said sharply. "I didn't have a choice."

"You always have a choice," I told him.

"Valero is not the bad guy in all of this."

"He's a drug dealer," I reminded him incredulously.

"He doesn't make people buy drugs. He's a businessman. He just offers a product."

"And he kills anyone who gets in his way. I'd say that he's about as bad as they come."

Keyes was quiet for a minute. I wanted to look out of the window to check on Alex, but I didn't want to take my eye off of him. He was cuffed, but I still didn't trust him.

"So tell me about Valero. I guess he's pretty afraid of Heidi, huh?"

"He's not afraid of anyone."

"Sure he is. He ordered her dead ten years ago. When he found out that the guy he'd tasked to shoot her was actually an undercover, his fear got the best of him. He ordered you to double check it for him because he knew that if she turned up somewhere then his life would be over, right? She knows enough to send him to the chair."

"She's a loose end. He doesn't like loose ends."

"So you checked it out. You had your doubts, but nothing concrete. And then last week, Valero had to pop Cortez. I mean, Valero's not a bad guy or anything, but Cortez was standing on the wrong street corner. Or he looked at him wrong. That kind of thing can get a guy killed, right?"

"You just keep talking, Goren. You'll find out what kind of thing can get a guy killed."

"Okay. I'll keep talking," I said agreeably. "Valero lost his cool and popped Cortez with the same gun that supposedly killed Heidi. He knew that an arrest for Cortez would open up his home to the police, not all of whom he owns, so he figured that he'd better find out once and for all whether or not she was alive to testify against him. "

"You're a fucking genius," he said with a roll of his eyes. "What else do you know?"

"I know that you made the ballistics pop so that you could initiate a renewed investigation. You thought that Rollins would jump into it, but instead he was quick to go with the drug related party line. I can't say why. Maybe he thought casting Heidi in a bad light would help John let it go. Maybe he was suspicious that Heidi was in witsec, too, so he was trying to hurry up and close the book on it to keep her safe. But you got lucky because John didn't want to quit. He hired us, so then you hitched your cart to me and Alex, hoping that we'd do your work for you and find Heidi."

"Which you did. So I guess you're not the only smart guy in the room."

"But what does that make you? Valero's errand boy? A lackey?"

"I know all of the tricks, Goren. You're not going to make me flip because I suddenly see that I'm of no real value to Valero. Please. That's the oldest one in the book."

"You _are_ of no real value," I insisted. "What do you think is going to happen after this?"

"I think that you're going to get in touch with that inspector. You're going to insist on seeing Heidi. And then the rest is up to us."

"Then you're going to kill Heidi. And John. And me and Alex. And how exactly are you going to get away with that? We left the police station with you. They'll know that you're involved."

"Why do you think Valero bought out Lovell? It's so that every inconvenient investigation can get swept under the rug."

"I think you overestimate his power. He's just a detective in another division. And you're expendable. They won't waste their efforts on you. You'll be the fall guy. They'll kill you just like they ordered Rollins killed, only this time they'll pin our murders on you."

"What's taking Alex so long?" Keyes asked, suddenly changing the subject.

"Why, are you on a time table?"

"I'm just wondering how long it takes to look at a little bit of blood."

The words were barely out of his mouth when the phone rang.

Rollins' house phone.

"Are you expecting a call?" I asked him knowing damn well that he was.

This was it. This was going to be the ransom call.

Although instead of money, they were going to insist on Heidi in order to get John released.

Keyes grinned at me and I waved him in the direction of the phone.

"Get it," I told him.

"No. You. It's for you anyway."

Alex came back into the house at that moment.

"What's going on?" she asked as the phone continued to ring.

"That's probably our instructions," I told her.

"Let it ring."

"Are you sure?" I asked her.

"They're not going to kill him. They want Heidi. They can wait."

TBC...


	44. Chapter 44

**Strathmore POV**

* * *

I waited patiently outside as I pondered our latest situation.

Rollins had been killed, presumably at Lovell's orders.

Or maybe even Valero's orders, although at the moment it seemed that Rollins was most dangerous to Lovell.

Then why write a note and connect him to Valero? Just to taint his reputation?

Wading through this extensive duplicity was mind boggling, and yet at the same time I found it fascinating.

Alex had brought me the dog a few minutes ago, and I was grateful for the distraction. I maintained my position, squatting in front of the car, while the dog sat in front of me. I scratched his ears and talked to him as though he could understand my every word.

And maybe he could because he just sat there and listened.

Or at least he pretended to, which made me start thinking that having a dog would be kind of nice. And I liked this one, so if he was headed off to the animal shelter anyway, then maybe I could arrange to adopt him.

I heard a car drive up, but I was slow to turn around.

Because I'd been expecting Mary.

So instead of looking back, I maintained my position and kept talking to Dynamite as he began to squirm in anticipation of someone new.

"If you're thinking about coming home with me, then you need to be nice to this lady. I'm hoping that she'll come around once in awhile."

"Get up but don't turn around," a voice instructed as I felt the press of a gun barrel against my head.

And then I heard a low whistle and the sound of something thudding in the snow across the yard.

"Let the dog go. I don't want to have to hurt him."

Dynamite was tugging on the leash to go retrieve whatever treat had been thrown, so I let him go. He trotted off into the yard and then sprawled out to chew on his prize.

"You couldn't just fucking leave it alone, could you? You had to come out here."

And oh yeah, I knew my captor.

It was Kara Quintana.

And if not for the rather large handgun she so ruthlessly had shoved against my skull, I would've gladly taken my chances in putting up more of a fight.

But size advantage didn't much matter when there was a .357 involved. Or a .45. Or some other equally frightening piece of weaponry.

"You need to come with me," she said. "Quietly."

"I don't think so," I responded.

"John, you don't have a choice," she responded, pushing the gun harder against my head. "I didn't want you to get involved, for Heidi's sake, but now you are, so I have to do this."

"For Heidi's sake? Like you really care about her? You got her into this mess."

"I didn't know she was going to go to the feds. If she'd just played along, she could've made the money she needed to get out of debt. Then she could've been with you, which is what she wanted."

"Bullshit. Valero doesn't let anybody walk away. You know that better than anyone."

"John, we need to go. Now."

"So my choice is to leave with you or you'll shoot me? Go ahead. Shoot me. You'll never find Heidi."

"That dog is going to finish off the bone in about five more minutes. When he does, he'll start barking, and I'm going to shoot the first person who comes out that door. And it won't be Keyes."

Alex. She'd come out to check on the dog.

"So you can come with me now, or we can wait and see what happens."

"Let's go," I agreed.

I turned toward my captor, and was rewarded with a swift punch in the nose.

I guess she didn't care for me arguing with her.

Or maybe she just wanted to better establish the hierarchy. Who knows? But what I did know was that now my nose was gushing blood.

Alex and Bobby wouldn't have to wonder where I'd gone.

"I'm sorry," she said, although she sounded anything but sorry.

"It's okay. I'd rather you hit me than kiss me."

My smartass comment earned me a kick to the groin which had me doubled over for a moment of breathlessness, but it was worth it.

As surprised as I'd been to hear her voice on the other end of that gun, I was actually glad that she was here.

Because she was going down, too. Just like the rest of them.

After a moment, I managed to stand up straight again, and I followed her to the car where she quickly tied my wrists with cable ties and then shoved me into the backseat.

Then she got in and started up the car.

"So Valero's getting worried, huh?" I asked casually as though I weren't laying face-first across the width of the back seat.

"Why do you say that?"

"He called you in from Jersey. Just to pick me up? Doesn't he have any other minions to do his bidding?"

"He has plenty. I volunteered."

"Why?"

"I've got a few things that I'd like to say to Heidi myself. I thought that it might be a fun reunion."

"What makes you think that there's going to be a reunion?"

"Because. If they don't produce her, then you're dead."

"But if we _do_ produce her, then _she's_ dead. Do you honestly think I'd try to save my life by giving up hers?"

"I don't think it'll be your decision. Your friends will make it for you."

No. They wouldn't.

But I wasn't going to keep arguing with her.

Because except for the fact that I'd been kidnapped, the plan was still going like we'd originally hoped.

Sort of.

Arrangements would be made for a meeting, at which point Valero would be caught attempting to take out a federal witness.

Keyes was tied to him, even more so now considering I'd been kidnapped while at a place that supposedly only Keyes knew that I'd be.

And I had no doubt that Alex and Bobby were at this moment gathering more damning evidence against the guilty parties.

I wasn't worried.

This was going to work out fine.

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

I was glad that I'd run into Mary because I have to admit that for a brief moment, my trust in her wavered.

I mean, I don't really know her.

Yes, I _thought_ that I could trust her.

In fact, I was really pretty sure that I could.

And beyond that, I really liked her.

But for just a flash, when John was missing and Mary had yet to arrive even though I thought that she should've, I wondered…what if she's involved?

Is she really who she says she is?

Because I hate to say it, but I didn't call the Marshal Service.

I didn't check her out.

Her knowledge of the case, and her seemingly real badge and her supposed willingness to help us had all combined to make confirming her identity a non-issue.

And that wasn't like me at all. I'm usually the cynic. I'm usually the one who demands proof at every corner.

Of course, when I ran into her at the back of the house and we started tossing out suppositions, my doubt was once again gone.

My instincts were right. She was one of us.

"I don't know about you," she said. "But I'd like to see this whole thing turn out differently."

"You mean you want to bypass the part about all of us ending up dead?" I'd retorted. "Yeah, I think that would be great."

So we'd mapped out a plan.

It involved more wire taps and phone traces and stall tactics.

It depended on things to go like we hoped.

It needed more back up, more bodies on our side, but we were going to have to take what we could get, because the circle of trust was only four wide at the moment.

And one of those four was in the hands of the enemy.

But we set a course of action and then I'd left her to go back into the house.

And it wasn't a minute too soon, either, because the phone was ringing. I don't know if Bobby would've answered it or not, but I was glad that I'd come back in time.

Because Mary needed about fifteen more minutes to get the wheels in motion, and so we weren't about to answer the phone just yet.

"What's going on?" I asked as though the ringing of the phone was a complete surprise.

But it wasn't.

There was no cell service in this place, and surely Keyes already knew that.

He'd deliberately made a point of having us ride with him.

He'd specifically made John wait outside.

And he wasn't in any hurry for us to leave the premises.

It was a no-brainer that he was waiting for the call.

"That's probably our instructions," Bobby said.

"Let it ring."

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"They're not going to kill him. They want Heidi. They can wait."

And I hated to sound so callous about John's life, but I truly believed that they weren't going to do anything to him.

At least not until they got their hands on either Heidi or the marshal responsible for her, which in this case was Mary.

So as long as they didn't have either of them, then John was still reasonably safe.

"Turn around," Bobby told Keyes once the phone stopped ringing.

"What?"

"Turn around," he said again, this time carefully enunciating each syllable, and raising his gun a little higher.

Keyes turned around.

With his back to us, we were able look at each other instead of him. I knew that he was still listening, but that was fine.

"What did you…" Bobby began.

"What I expected," I said with a nod.

To the untrained ear, I was confirming blood, but in fact, I was letting him know that Mary was there, _as expected._

"So…"

"They'll call back."

"And then?"

"Uh huh."

Bobby raised his eyebrow at me, and I gave him another nod.

_Yes, Mary is putting a trace on the line. _

_Yes, Mary has a tap in place, too. _

_And yes, she's going to be ready to follow if need be_.

"You?" I asked him.

Because I knew damn well that Bobby hadn't just been standing in here twiddling his thumbs.

He had a gift with words, and while I'd only recently discovered how wonderfully romantic he could be with those words, I'd known for many years that he was a pro at getting people to confess.

"Of course," he replied with a small smile. He pulled his phone part of the way out of his pocket, and I couldn't help but smile back.

No service was required for the recording application to work.

Bobby had gotten Keyes on tape.

"Where's the dog?" Bobby asked suddenly.

"I…um…took him to the neighbor's house. That's what took so long."

Actually, I'd made Mary take him with her. It was impractical, but I figured that he would be okay in the back seat. Better there than here. I didn't want him to be a distraction or for him to get hurt.

The phone started ringing again, but I still didn't make a move towards it.

Bobby gave me a look that said _when_ as he tucked the phone back into his pocket. I checked my watch, and then held up five fingers.

"Valero doesn't play games," Keyes said from his spot facing the wall. "You're going to get your friend killed."

"Or maybe he'll just think that you failed. Maybe he's wondering if we're even still in the house," I replied.

"That's right," Bobby added. "He can't know for sure that we didn't overpower you. Maybe he thinks we're in pursuit of the kidnapper right now."

"You guys are making a big mistake. If you don't answer that phone, they'll kill him."

"How many times will he call?" I asked Keyes as the room once again went silent.

"That's it," Keyes answered, shaking his head. "It's lights out for Mr. Strathmore."

I ignored him as I checked my watch again.

The next time it rang, I could answer.

I caught Bobby's eye again as I held my breath and waited for the phone.

Was I so sure that they wouldn't hurt John just yet? Was I taking too big of a risk?

"You're right," Bobby said quietly. He must have known that I was starting to doubt myself. "You're right."

"Yeah?"

"They'll call one more time. Three is the classic number of choice. Four is too many. Two isn't enough. They'll call."

I took one step closer to Bobby just for the support of being in his proximity.

And then I held my breath and waited to see if the phone would ring.

TBC...


	45. Chapter 45

**Strathmore POV**

* * *

Kara didn't drive far, and I was surprised by that, considering that I thought that Valero's territory was East Colfax, which was on the opposite side of the city from where Rollins lived.

And instead of going through stop and go traffic, we went at a steady rate of speed.

_And _I didn't smell the stench of three-day old asphalt from the trucks in the construction zone that we'd passed on the way into the neighborhood.

So she'd turned south on C-470.

She got on the phone shortly after we left.

"I've got him," she said.

And while I listened to her talk, I tried to work my hand into my pocket.

Because she hadn't taken my cell phone.

"It went fine," she told her accomplice. "I think the other two were still in the house with Keyes…yeah…yeah, it worked just like you said."

I could feel the phone with my fingertips, although I wasn't sure exactly what I planned to do with it.

It wasn't like I could send a text message. Or make a call.

_Or could I?_

Who had I last dialed?

Mike.

Because I'd started to call him last night after leaving Mary's room.

I hadn't talked to him since this whole fiasco had begun, and I wanted to discuss everything with him.

But then I'd remembered that it was late here, which meant even later there. And they'd spent the day on a plane flying back to New York.

It wouldn't be fair of me to call him at two o'clock in the morning just so that I could unload my issues. So even though I'd pushed the button to call him, I'd hung up before it went through.

And then I'd gone to sleep thinking about Mary and how much I liked her. And I'd wondered what the weather was like in Albuquerque.

"I know. I'm almost there," Kara said. I could feel the tilt of the car as we drove a little ways up into the foothills. "I'll watch…are you sure? Because it really makes me nervous."

I jiggled my hips a little, just enough to get the phone to slide further out of my pocket. And into my hand.

Of course, with my hands behind my back, I couldn't see what I was doing, but I knew which button made calls.

And if I pushed it, it would automatically redial the last number called.

I hit the button as the car rolled to a stop. Kara hung up with her friend and cut off the engine.

"It'll just be a few minutes," she told me conversationally. And then she glanced back over the seat at me, and even though I tried to hide it, she must have seen the phone.

She hopped out of the car and jerked open the back door before snatching the phone from my hand.

"Hello?" she said into the phone. "Hello?"

Apparently no one answered because then she slammed the phone closed and shoved it into her pocket.

"Are you trying to make me kill you?" she yelled at me. "Damn it, John…you're lucky it didn't go through."

"You can't blame a guy for trying, can you?" I asked as she reached in and gave me a thorough patting down.

Once apparently satisfied that I had no weapon or any other communication device on me, she slid back out of the car.

"Just relax," she insisted. "Let's get through today and then everything will be okay. I mean, don't you want to see Heidi again?"

"Not like this. No."

"If you cooperate, and your friends cooperate, then everything is going to be fine."

"Kara, you've committed a kidnapping. You're trying to lure a woman out of the witness protection program. What do you honestly think is going to happen? That Valero is just going to ask her nicely not to testify against him and then this is all going to go away?"

"Oh no," she admitted readily. "He's going to kill her. But look at it this way. You already thought she was dead, right? So what's the difference?"

"You've completely lost your mind."

"Look, if Heidi testifies, it's not just Valero going down. It's me, too. And a dozen other good people just like me."

"Good people," I mocked. "You realize that you're saying that while I'm in your back seat with my hands bound behind my back, right?"

"Let's just get this over with," she said, shaking her head.

She was most definitely in denial about what was going to happen. Or at least what Valero _wanted_ to have happen.

I was pretty sure that things weren't going to go as they planned.

"I need to make a call," she told me. "And then we'll get moving."

She closed the back door and then walked around to the front of the car and sat up on the hood before pulling out her cell phone.

**

* * *

**

Mary POV

I left Alex, grabbed the dog, and after slapping a GPS beneath Keyes' car, I'd hauled ass back to my own vehicle.

Or rather, Rollins' car. The one that I'd hot-wired. I wasn't sure if I was going to put that in my report or not.

But still…I hustled to the car because I was on a tight time table, and I couldn't waste a single minute.

It was very possible that we were in over our heads. The smart thing to do would be to call in the cops.

But I still had a witness to consider. Heidi had to be my first priority. And announcing over the police radio that there was a kidnapping victim who was being held as a bargaining chip in order to gain access to a member of witsec, well…that was unacceptable.

No, I would get John back myself. With the help of Alex and Bobby, of course.

The three of us could negotiate a meeting with Valero, and then we would take him out.

I had no doubt that we already had all of the evidence we needed to send Keyes down.

And it was likely Lovell as well, because this thing with Rollins had been a hasty, messy decision, and it told me that Lovell had plenty to hide. Things that Rollins had known about.

And a little bit of legwork on the phone records should show us how the word had spread that Rollins was talking to the Gorens.

Not to mention the fact that Bobby had been alone with Keyes for probably close to fifteen minutes. And there was something about him that made people want to confess their sins.

Hell, I'd almost ratted myself out this morning about the make-out session that John and I had last night. _Why?_ I have absolutely no idea, but while we ate doughnuts and drank coffee, I found myself wanting to say the words.

So I knew that Bobby would get to Keyes, and through him, he'd get to Lovell as well.

So basically, Valero was my current primary target.

Although John was my first _priority_.

We would get him back safely and, in the process, take down Valero.

Once I got back to the car, I pulled out my cell phone.

I had service.

It was like the next street over was in a black hole. I wondered if that was intentional.

Had a signal jammer been put into Rollins' home for the sole purpose of keeping John and the Gorens out of touch with law enforcement?

Was that Valero's little extra insurance policy?

Although Rollins had a land line, obviously.

But were they monitoring that, too? I'd have to get Stan to see if he could track that down as well. If Valero had hacked a wire tap, then maybe we could trace it backwards.

I realized that I had a message on my cell phone, so I checked it quickly while I coaxed the dog into the backseat.

It was from my counterpart in New Jersey. Kara Quintana was AWOL.

_Great_. I had a pretty good idea of where she might be headed.

I closed the back door and got into the driver's seat and then called Stan.

"What the hell is going on up there, Mary?"

"I need you to trust me on this one," I told him. "We don't have a lot of time."

"What do you need?" he asked after only a brief pause.

I had to admit that he was a great boss. He walked a nice balance of pleasing the higher-ups while not busting my balls too much.

And he definitely trusted me.

"I need another tap and I need you guys to get a trace ready. And I want to find out if anyone else is tapping the same line."

I gave him all of the details, and then hung up with him, confident in the knowledge that he would take care of it and call me back at the first sign of activity.

While I'd been talking with my boss, I'd moved the car closer to the end of the street. I wanted to be able to get a visual of Rollins' street just in case.

From where I was parked, I could see the top of Rollins' roof.

And maybe that wasn't all that helpful, but I'd also be able to see Keyes' car coming in enough time to get ahead of it. And with the help of the GPS, I wouldn't have to follow. I just needed to be close. Being ahead of him would keep me above suspicion.

Once I was in a good position, I sat back and just breathed.

For ten whole seconds.

And then my phone rang.

"Mary, we've got activity. Listen."

Stan put the phone on speaker so that I could hear the conversation through the wire tap.

"_**How do we know that he's okay?"**_ Alex was saying.

"_**Because I say he is,"**_ was the response.

And it was a woman.

_Hello, Kara_.

I guess she got out here faster than I'd anticipated. She must have come out as soon as she got word that John was here.

"_**I'm not taking your word for anything,"**_ Alex stalled. _**"Didn't you tell John that Heidi was your lover? So you've already shown that you don't mind lying."**_

There was silence for a moment, and I mentally patted Alex on the back for throwing Kara a curve ball like that. She'd read the situation quickly and efficiently, and now she was giving us time to make sure that the trace would work.

"_**I'm fine, Alex."**_

That was John. And he sounded calm, as though he was in this type of situation every day.

Later I might analyze why that realization made me hot. But for now, I was just relieved to hear his voice.

"_**Happy?"**_ Kara asked after apparently taking the phone back from John.

"_**Not really, but it's a start."**_

"_**So do you want to conduct business now? Because you know that the clock is ticking."**_

"_**And **_**you**_** know that we can't just hand over Heidi. We don't even know where she is,"**_ Alex said.

"_**But you know who knows."**_

"_**A United States Marshal is not going to make a deal with drug dealers. You know that. They don't negotiate."**_

"_**Then you'd better figure out a way,"**_ Kara insisted. _**"Union Station at four o'clock. I'll find you."**_

"_**It might take longer than that to get Heidi to Denver,"**_ Alex argued.

"Come on," Stan muttered. "Twenty more seconds. Keep her talking."

"_**Then you'd better bring the marshal. We'll trade him for John."**_

_Him._

Huh.

Why was it that even a woman was so quick to use a sexist stereotype?

"_**I'm supposed to kidnap a marshal and trade him out for a civilian?"**_ Alex asked, perpetuating the misconception.

No sense in offering Kara more information that necessary. Sometimes withholding even the smallest detail can prove helpful later on.

"_**Because I want to spend the rest of my life in a federal prison, right?" **_Alex continued sarcastically.

"_**I suggest that you do some fast talking to the marshal. If he's got a conscience, he'll go along with it. I need him or Heidi. If you don't show up at the station at four o'clock with at least one of them, then John's dead."**_

"_**If you kill him, then you definitely won't get to Heidi. How does that help you?"**_

"_**I've got John's cell phone," **_she replied. _**"I'll take out every one in his address book until you comply."**_

After another moment of silence, Kara continued.

"_**So we have a deal?"**_

"_**It's a deal."**_

"_**And no cops or I'll just start shooting at Union Station. Think how many innocent people will die."**_

"_**No cops**_**,"** Alex agreed.

"_**Okay,"**_ Kara said. _**"Now Alex…"**_

"_**Yeah?"**_

"_**You'd better get the hell out of that house."**_

"What the…" I murmured as I climbed out of the car and stood up in the door frame so that I had a better view.

I stared hard across the neighborhood in the direction of Rollins' house, a strong sense of dread filling me at Kara's warning.

Was she just trying to hurry them along, or…

_The clock is ticking_, Kara had said.

_Shit…_

Before my mind could fully process the implication of Kara's words, the sound of the explosion reverberated through the neighborhood.

I felt the force of the concussion from nearly half a mile away.

Car alarms began to go off along the street and, where only moments ago I could see the roof of Rollins' house, now I only saw a cloud of black smoke amidst a rainstorm of debris.

Shock and panic and fear filled me as I realized that Alex and Bobby would've only had about fifteen seconds to get out of the house.

Ignoring the distinct possibility of a secondary blast, I took off running as fast as I could towards Rollins' house.

TBC...


	46. Chapter 46

**Bobby POV**

* * *

When the phone rang for the third time, Alex finally gave me the nod.

"Go ahead," she said.

"You get it. I'll listen," I told her.

So she picked up the receiver on the seventies-model rotary desk phone and held it up to her ear.

I leaned down close so that I could hear.

"Goren," she answered.

"It's about damn time. And it's a good thing that you answered, too. This was your last chance."

I was marginally surprised by the female voice and I quickly did a rundown of the known players.

"Kara?" I mouthed to Alex. She shrugged and nodded at me.

"Which made it your last chance, too," Alex replied smartly. "Valero wouldn't like it much if you didn't get the job done, now would he?"

"I can do my job just fine. I have John, don't I?"

"Do you?"

"He's here."

"How do we know that he's okay?" Alex asked.

"Because I say he is."

I checked my watch and then tapped the face, reminding Alex that we needed to stretch this thing out.

It may be our only opportunity to find out where the call was coming from which would hopefully clue us in on where John was being held.

Otherwise we'd have to wait and follow the instructions and I wasn't crazy about doing that.

I mean, I _would_.

But I'd rather catch them sooner

"I'm not taking your word for anything," Alex said to her. "Didn't you tell John that Heidi was your lover? So you've already shown that you don't mind lying."

"I'm fine, Alex."

That was John, and I was happy to hear that he sounded okay. In fact, he sounded as though he'd been in this very situation more than once. I gave him points for staying cool under pressure.

Maybe it was moving millions of dollars around on a daily basis that helped him keep up a steady façade.

"Happy?"

Kara was back on the line.

"Not really, but it's a start," Alex told her.

"So do you want to conduct business now? Because you know that the clock is ticking."

I glanced over at Keyes who was still facing the wall in the corner, while Alex continued her conversation with Kara.

I wondered what Valero's real plan was because this seemed odd.

If Keyes was proven to be dirty, which Valero had to know that at this point he would be, then Rollins' death would undoubtedly be re-examined.

The home would be scrutinized.

Was Valero _that_ sure that there was no evidence here against him?

What about Lovell?

He didn't have enough pull to quash an investigation into the death of a police detective. Did he?

I mean, Keyes was trying to steamroll the suicide angle, but once it was shown that _he_ was bad then the Denver PD would be forced to take another look and then it was very likely that things would start unraveling for the mayor wannabe.

_Wouldn't they?_

Although they didn't know that I had the tape. So did they really think that they were untouchable?

I'd been listening to Kara but only peripherally until I heard her make a threat.

"I've got John's cell phone. I'll take out every one in his address book until you comply."

Alex paused and looked at me. She didn't like the threat any more than I did. Not counting ourselves, I could think of at least two people we loved whose information was in that cell phone.

I checked my watch again.

Surely we'd allowed the marshal service enough time to make the trace.

_If Mary had gotten it going like she should have…_

"So we have a deal?" Kara asked.

"It's a deal," Alex confirmed.

I kept thinking about Rollins' house. And Keyes. And the limited amount of time spent here making this place clean. Rollins had just been killed less than twelve hours ago.

So what was the best way to get rid of evidence when you weren't exactly sure where it would've been stashed?

_The clock is ticking…_

"Okay," Kara said. "Now Alex…"

"Yeah?" she asked cautiously.

"You'd better get the hell out of that house."

Alex dropped the phone and yelled out _run_ as she grabbed me by the arm and headed for the front door.

I didn't hesitate, but instead nearly ripped the door from its hinges as I pulled it open.

Together we jumped from the front porch, bypassing the three wooden steps completely, and then we blazed a trail through the snow-covered front lawn.

"Keyes!" I shouted as I looked back over my shoulder. Keyes had left the house as well, but had slipped on the front porch and was struggling to work his way back to his feet. "Alex…"

"There's no time!"

As she said the words, she went down in the snow. The slushy base beneath the fresh covering from the past twenty-four hours made even walking hazardous, much less attempting to run for our lives.

I kept running as I pulled her up and along beside me, grateful that at some point during our flight we had switched positions so that my hand was gripping her arm rather than the other way around.

I glanced back one more time and saw that Keyes had made it to the middle of the lawn.

And for whatever reason, I got the strong sense that our time had run out.

By this point, we were out in the road, and I pulled Alex onto the ground with me and then covered her body with mine.

My instinct was to push down harder against Alex, to keep every possible danger from touching her, but at the same time I realized that I was probably damn near crushing her.

So I did my best to shelter her, and then I clasped my hands over the back of my head just as the explosion rocked the house.

I felt a wave of hot air roll over my back, and then a moment of eerie, paradoxical silence and darkness as I molded my body to hers.

After what felt like an eternity, but was surely only a few seconds, I felt debris pelting down against my back and sound began to once again permeate my brain.

I briefly pondered the fate of Keyes, but I shoved that thought aside and waited another moment in preparation for any secondary blasts that may occur. Too many people in this area used propane tanks.

"Are you okay?"

It was Alex, although she sounded really far away. I had to look again to be sure that she was still beneath me.

My ears were ringing, and my eyes were stinging, but as I took mental stock of my body, I realized that I was in fact okay.

"Are you?" I asked instead of answering her question.

She shifted slightly underneath me, moving her hand up to her head. I watched her, as though she was in slow motion, and when she pulled her hand away, it was bloody.

"You're bleeding," I said loudly as I finally moved off of her. My heart was sinking as my mind analyzed possibilities. "Let me see."

"I don't think it's mine," she insisted, and once she was free of my confining weight, she sat up and looked at me before gently reaching out a hand to the side of my face. "It's you. You're cut."

My relief at the idea that it was my blood as opposed to Alex's was nearly overwhelming.

"It doesn't look too bad," she said as she lightly probed the injured area. "You must have gotten hit by some debris."

"I guess it's safe to say that there's no more evidence in the house," I muttered.

"Yeah, I know," she agreed. "That's what I started thinking about when I was on the phone with Kara. And then when she said to get out of the house…"

And then I remembered Keyes.

"Do you think he made it?" I asked Alex, knowing full well that she would know exactly who I was talking about.

And although I was concerned for Keyes, I couldn't make myself stand up just yet.

Anyone who has never experienced an explosion first hand cannot possibly fathom the surreal feeling of the aftermath.

And at the moment, I was still in dreamland.

"Bobby! Alex!"

It was Mary. For a brief moment, I felt for her because she'd undoubtedly been watching from not too far away, and had questioned whether or not we'd survived.

Watching…

_She'd been watching…_

I quickly looked up at the houses nestled in the hills above while Alex waved Mary over to us.

"Are you two okay?"

"I think she's watching," I said.

"Who? Kara?"

"She didn't want to kill us. But they needed that house destroyed. And by doing it this way, they certainly got the message across."

"What message is that?" Mary asked.

"That they'll stop at nothing."

"Well, neither will we," Alex said as she got to her feet.

I admired her durability. I still felt shaky.

"Do you think that she's still watching?" Mary asked uncertainly as her eyes scanned the horizon.

"I don't know, but she won't suspect you. She assumed that the marshal's a man," Alex reminded her. "You're just being a good Samaritan. So quit looking up there."

"You're right," Mary said, shaking her head and looking back at us. She was obviously in a bit of shock as well.

"What about Keyes?" I asked again.

Mary took a few steps towards Rollins' yard which was now littered with the remnants of his home.

"It's not looking good," she admitted. "I don't see…oh, hang on."

I watched as she trotted into the yard.

"Bobby, are you okay?" Alex asked me as she squatted in front of me. I was still sitting in the snow. "Did you hit your head?"

"I don't think so. I'm okay. I think I'm okay."

She reached into my pocket and pulled out my ever-present handkerchief and then carefully pressed it against the side of my face.

"What the hell were you thinking?" she asked me. Her tone was soft and caring even if her words were rebuking. "Shoving me underneath you…"

"I'm sorry…" I began, and then I caught myself. "No, I'm not sorry. Alex, I…damn it, I…"

"You what?" she encouraged, but she had the beginnings of a small smile on her face.

"I'm _bigger_," I emphasized. "It has nothing to do with anything but sheer size. I needed to try to protect you."

"You know how I hate that word," she replied as she licked her thumb and then used it instead of the handkerchief to wipe the excess blood and dirt from my face.

"Alex…"

"And the next time you're on top of me like that, it had better be for more pleasurable reasons. You got me?"

With her last statement, she brought her eyes to mine and I was surprised to find them glassy.

She was more affected by the explosion than she wanted to admit.

"I got it," I answered quietly.

"Good," she said firmly as she stood up. She held out her hand to me and I let her help me to my feet.

"Keyes is dead," Mary said as she came back to where we stood. "And the house is…obviously leveled."

I could hear sirens in the distance as the fire trucks made their way to the neighborhood.

"Let's get out of here before we get caught up in a nightmare of statements and protocol," Alex said.

"Did your guys get anything on the trace?" I asked Mary as we started hustling towards her – _Rollins'_ - car.

"I don't know yet," she replied with that smile I was learning to appreciate. "I've been kind of, you know…busy."

We got to the car and both Alex and Mary headed for the driver's side door.

"I like to drive," Mary said.

"So do I. And I have the keys," Alex replied.

"I don't need keys," Mary countered. As she said the words, her phone began to ring. "But, okay. You drive. I'll talk to Stan."

She went around and climbed in the passenger seat, so I got into the back with the dog, who immediately stood on my lap. He was probably slightly traumatized, too, so I rubbed his head, which was calming for me as well as for him.

"Yeah Stan," I heard Mary answer. "Everybody's fine. Well, except Keyes. He didn't make it."

And I felt a little bad about that, although I'm not sure what more I could've done. He was handcuffed, but that didn't impede his escape.

And my first priority was Alex.

Besides, Keyes was the one who got himself into this mess by climbing into bed with a drug lord.

"You okay?" Alex asked me, catching my eye in the rear view mirror.

"Yeah," I told her. I started to say more, but then Mary hung up the phone and turned around to look at me.

"You were right."

"About…"

"The call came from a cell, John's cell, but they used the GPS in it to track the location. They were in a neighborhood overlooking Rollins' street."

"They're not still tracking it?"

"The GPS went offline at about the time of the explosion."

"So she didn't mind if we were tracking," I concluded. "She used John's cell, and she knew that she'd be long gone by the time we got ourselves together."

"Which leaves us with…what?" Alex asked in frustration as she drove us past three fire trucks that were all entering the neighborhood.

"I'm not done," Mary said.

"What else?" I asked quickly, my excitement growing at the look of triumph on her face.

"One of Kara's known aliases, Leila Merck, was listed on a flight manifest for a plane that landed in Denver early this morning."

"I guess the airport has reopened. Nice of it to stay closed last night when your partner was trying to get here, but then open back up this morning for the drug dealer," Alex said sarcastically.

Mary stared at her for a moment before looking back at me and saying, "You know, I _really_ like her."

"So we know that Kara's here," I said, getting her focus back onto whatever news that she was going to share. "But we already knew that. What else?"

"Sorry," she said with a shake of her head. "Okay, Stan was able to find that Leila Merck had rented a car at DIA. She doesn't know that we know that name, so she's not trying to cover her tracks. He's checking with the rental agency to see if the car has GPS."

"So we're not dead in the water," Alex stated.

"Nope," Mary said as her phone rang again. She answered it quickly and I scooted the dog from my lap and into the seat next to me so that I could lean forward and listen to the call.

After a minute of holding the phone to her ear, Mary closed it up and looked at us cautiously.

"The car's been stopped for several minutes at the corner of 19th and Chestnut."

"What's there?"

"Nothing. It's a barren lot in the middle of a construction zone."

"So it's parked," I said slowly. I wasn't sure if I liked this or not.

Because in this type of scenario, a parked car usually meant one of two things.

Either she thought that it was a good place to kill some time while waiting for the scheduled meet.

Or it had been a good place to kill John.

And then she'd left his body in the abandoned car.

TBC...

**A/N: Arrivederci a lunedi! **


	47. Chapter 47

**Logan POV**

* * *

I worried extensively, even though I had no concrete evidence to be worried about.

Except that they weren't answering their phones.

None of them.

One I could understand.

Two maybe even.

But all three of them?

Something was wrong.

"I wonder how fast we can get to Denver," I mused for the eighth time in about as many minutes.

"They said that they'd call if they needed us," Carolyn reminded me.

"I know," I said on a heavy sigh.

I should've been feeling good right about now.

Together with Lupo and Bernard, we'd managed to get Candi to fess up to her wrongdoings, we'd nabbed a mobbed-up lawyer, and we'd put to rest the notion of the hit on Alex.

But I still couldn't put an end to that nagging feeling.

"Call him again," Carolyn said quietly as she gave my leg a nudge with hers.

We were sitting in the break room at MCS.

After Candi had been taken away, Lupo had asked us to hang out for a few minutes while he took care of some paperwork. He was vague as to his purpose but I got the sense that he wanted to talk with us about something.

"You realize that we could still be in Rio right now," I replied to her as I pulled out my phone. "It would be…what, about three o'clock? The tide would be coming in, the breeze blowing…"

"You wanted to come back," she reminded me, although she leaned in closer to me and ran her hand up the front of my shirt. "Remember? You were bored. You know, I don't think that I've ever had a man get bored with me before."

"You were bored, too," I countered as I captured her hand beneath mine and just held it against my chest. "And you know damn well that it wasn't you."

"I know," she conceded. "I'm glad we came back."

"Me, too. We got to help put this hit thing to bed."

"You think Lupo and Bernard couldn't have done it without us?"

"I'm sure they could've," I admitted. "But coming back, getting our hands dirty…it made me feel better. More involved."

"You don't like them being out there without us, do you?"

"No, I…it's just…it's personal. This is John. And they're solving his fiancé's murder."

"You wanted to be the one to put his mind at ease about that. You wanted to be the one to provide closure."

"Maybe," I said on a sigh. I sat back in my chair but kept her hand in mine. "You know, everybody knows right off that Bobby is smart. I mean, you talk to him for fifteen seconds and anybody can see it. But it's different with me. I have one skill. I solve things. I need to use that skill to my advantage."

"You have more than one skill," she assured me as a slow smile spread across her face. "And John will not think more of Bobby or less of you because of the way this worked out. You don't have anything to prove to him. He cares about you because of who you are, not because of what you can do for him."

"I know," I said after a moment.

"Do you? Because you don't sound convinced. Do you really believe that it's a competition between you and Bobby?"

"What? No," I insisted.

"Then why does it matter who helps him?"

She always had a way of helping to pull my head out of my ass.

And she was exactly right.

"It doesn't matter," I stated. "And I'm being a complete idiot."

"No," she countered. "You just don't like feeling left behind. No one does."

"I guess. But you know, I _am_ worried. Why the hell aren't they answering their phones?"

"Call him."

So I dialed Bobby again and while it rang, I thought about what Carolyn had said.

Was I really trying to compete with Bobby?

Why in the world would I feel like that?

Because I was afraid that John would like him better than me.

And how fucking juvenile was that? I should be happy that John and Bobby liked each other.

I _was_ happy about that. And I needed to get over my petty insecurities.

"Goren."

"Bobby!" I shouted, drawn from my introspection at the unexpected sound of his voice. "I've been trying to catch up with you all morning. What's going on?"

"Oh, we're…um…well…"

His stuttering confirmed my suspicions. _Some_thing was going on.

"I thought you guys had this thing about wrapped up," I said.

"We do. Sort of. It's just that…well…"

"_Is that Logan?"_ a female voice asked in the background.

And it wasn't Alex.

And then I heard a dog bark.

This was just getting stranger and stranger by the second.

"Yeah," Bobby said in answer to the woman.

"Who is that?" I asked him. "Where is Alex? And what's with the dog?"

"_Tell him it's me_," the woman said.

"Are you sure?" Bobby asked her.

"Somebody had damn well better tell me something," I said.

"Mike," he said firmly, preventing me from going off on a tirade. "Alex and I are working with Inspector Mary Shannon."

Oh.

_Oh._

Holy shit. That meant that…

"Okay," I said with forced calmness.

"And now we've hit a snag. But we're pressed for time and I can't go into it all right now, okay?"

"Okay. But you guys are okay?"

"Me and Alex are fine."

"And John? How's he taking it?"

"Very well. But he um…he…"

"_Oh for God's sake, Bobby,"_ I heard Mary say. There was a scuffling sound and then she came on the line.

"Drug dealers who want their hands on my witness have decided to kidnap John so that they could use him as a bargaining chip. As of half an hour ago, he's still fine, and the meeting is set up for a little less than four hours from now, but we think we may have tracked down one of the drug dealer's cars, so we're going to check it out and get your brother back. Don't bother coming out here because one way or another, this whole thing will be over by the time you clear the security gate at JFK. As soon as we know something concrete, we'll call back. Okay?"

"One way or another?" I asked, somewhat in shock by Mary's forthright speech, but grateful for the details nonetheless.

"The dealers will either be dead or in custody," she clarified confidently. Then I heard a shuffling sound again, and Mary's muffled voice saying, "_How hard was that, Bobby?_"

"Mike?"

"This sounds like that trouble we talked about," I said in frustration. Man, I really hated not being in the know. "You were going to bring me into this thing, remember?"

"It just broke open," he told me. "These guys…these drug dealers…they killed a cop after he talked to us. They'd been bugging his desk…we went out to his house to investigate and then they kidnapped John and blew up the house and…"

"You were at his house when it blew up?"

"Well, we ran out of it first…"

All thoughts of annoyance were chased out by concern.

Who was I to judge his decisions? I knew how fast things could turn on a dime. I wasn't going to bust his balls over it. Well, not any_more_.

He and Alex could've been blown to bits while I was hanging out at 1PP…

"You two are both okay?" I asked him again.

"Yeah. I'm sorry that we didn't tell you sooner about what was going on. It just…"

"I know. It's okay."

"Hey, I need to go. Alex just spotted the car."

"Okay. Make sure that…"

"I will. I promise. I'll call as soon as I know anything at all."

I hung up the phone and looked at Carolyn, who was watching me intently.

"Heidi's in witsec. John's been kidnapped by drug dealers. Bobby and Alex almost got blown up. And I was mad at him for not calling me. I am possibly the biggest asshole in the world."

"You're worried," she said, taking everything else completely in stride. And then she stood up and pulled my head against her chest. "No one's going to fault you for your reaction."

"Hey," Lupo said as he came into the break room. "Thanks for hanging out. I want you guys to look at something."

"Oh, and I didn't even tell them that they're clear on the hit," I added as I pulled back from Carolyn's embrace and stood up from the chair.

"I think they've got bigger concerns at the moment," she said to me, and then she looked over at Lupo as he stood in the doorway awaiting our response. "Sure. What can we do?"

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

I knew that Bobby felt bad about the phone call with Mike, but there wasn't really much that we could do about it.

Things happen.

It wasn't like we could stop in the middle of ongoing action to call him while he was two thousand miles away.

Mike just needed to trust us to handle this on our own.

I was actually glad that Mary had taken the phone from Bobby. If I hadn't been driving, I probably would've done it myself.

It had been almost painful to listen to him hem and haw his way through the explanation.

He hadn't wanted to say the words because he still, _still_ had trouble believing that people weren't going to walk away from him if he disappointed them.

And he figured that he was disappointing Mike.

And it shouldn't frustrate me that he wasn't completely cured of this particular neurosis, but at the moment, I was using my frustration as a cover for fear.

Because I didn't really want to find out what was in that parked rental in the abandoned parking lot.

"There," I said as the dark green Ford Tempo came into view. It wasn't hard to spot.

It was at the far edge of an otherwise empty lot.

"Let's park up on the edge of the next street and walk back to it," Mary suggested.

"You think it's a set-up?" Bobby asked her. "For the purpose of what?"

"I have no idea. Maybe they want to know how much we know. Maybe they're making sure that we haven't been able to track them. Maybe they want to see how much fire power we have. Maybe…"

"Okay," Bobby interrupted. I was happy to see that he was biting back a smirk. "We'll walk over to it. But you stay in the car."

"Me?" Mary asked.

"You said it yourself. If they're watching, and they want to see our fire power, don't you think we should hold someone back in reserve? And they already know about me and Alex. You're the wildcard here."

"Okay. You're right," she agreed. "I'll watch from here."

So I parked a decent distance away amidst a sea of cars in a nearby warehouse parking lot.

And then together, with weapons drawn, we went in a circuitous route toward the green Tempo.

"It looks empty," he whispered as we finally got close.

"I hope that it is," I replied.

Because we were pretty sure that no one was sitting in the seats.

Which left the possibility of someone laid out in the back.

Or shoved in the trunk.

I motioned for Bobby to go around the right side and I took the left, each of us easing slowly toward the vehicle.

We kept alternating our line of sight between the car itself and the surrounding area.

I knew that Mary would have our backs, but still…she was just one gun.

Or probably two since she likely had a throw-down piece but I didn't want to have to find that out.

The parking lot was quiet except for the traffic passing along the street that was about fifty yards away.

Despite being abandoned, the parking lot was a mess of tire tracks and footprints, so the area had been used at some point today after the snow had stopped falling. For what purpose, I wasn't sure, but it kept us from being able to ascertain any additional information from its condition.

I inched closer and closer until I could see the entire backseat through the window.

It was empty.

I felt like I had a lead weight in my stomach.

Would John be in the trunk?

Would they have killed him, even before attempting the exchange?

Maybe, if he'd put up a fight. Maybe they'd considered him dead weight and figured that they could overpower us when we arrived at union station, taking what they wanted without offering us him in return.

I met Bobby at the trunk. All was still quiet, and I realized that I'd been hoping to at least hear a thumping sound from the inside of the trunk.

"Do you want me to do it?" I asked quietly, knowing full well that as scared as I was feeling at the moment, Bobby was probably feeling much worse. Because he was surely having flashbacks, remembering distinctly a time when he'd opened a trunk expecting to find me.

"No, I can…"

"Here," I said, taking his pocketknife from his hand.

I worked the blade into the lock of the trunk and after a few brief seconds, the lid popped open.

There was a dark brown tarp covering a large object.

I took a deep breath and then reached out my hand to remove the tarp.

And then from nowhere, a car came screaming into the parking lot.

Bobby and I whirled around as three men came jumping out of the car in a barrage of shouts and commands

"Drop your weapons and get down!"

"Get down on the ground! Now!"

"Get down, get down, get down!"

"Oh you have got to be kidding me," I muttered.

We didn't drop our weapons, and instead I began to argue with our attackers, but I hesitated when I heard Mary shouting as she joined the fray.

"Drop your weapons! Federal agent!"

"You drop it!" a guy yelled back.

By this point, Mary had almost reached the car, and she kept her gun at eye-level and continued to approach the three men.

Bobby and I kept ours aimed at them as well, but we held firm were we stood in front of the open trunk.

"You fuck up my case, and I'll drop you right here," Mary threatened in a low, harsh voice. "Now step back and drop your goddamn weapons!"

Surprisingly, the men complied, and when I saw that Mary had it under control, I turned back to the trunk.

"I'm a United States Marshal," I heard her explaining. "We're tracking a witness."

Which was _sort_ of true.

I pulled back the tarp, and let out the breath I'd been holding.

"It's drugs," Bobby stated in confusion.

And I say confusion because even though we knew that Kara was into drugs, we'd both been fully expecting to find a corpse.

"No shit," one of the guys yelled.

We turned back to look at them, and the closest one pulled a badge from under his jacket. "We're DEA. And you just found twenty pounds of mile high that was going to get picked up by a runner. _You_ just fucked up _our_ case."

TBC...


	48. Chapter 48

**Mary POV**

* * *

It happened.

Seriously.

And it probably happened a lot more than most people realized.

Because bad guys tended to cross jurisdictions when committing their crimes and the good guys didn't like to communicate.

So it most definitely did happen.

But knowing that it wasn't an unusual occurrence didn't help to ease my indignation.

"How did you track this car here?" I asked. "Where was it before this? Did you see who got out of it? Where they went?"

"Inspector, can we move this interrogation? On the off-chance that we haven't been spotted, I mean. Because I would _really_ like to attach a dealer to these twenty pounds of blow."

And yeah, okay. The man had a point.

So as much as I hated to concede to anyone, ever, about anything, this time I did.

"Let's go back to the car," I said.

"I'll go with you and maybe we can enlighten each other," he agreed.

He gave a nod to the other two agents and then held out his hand in a gesture that indicated that he wanted me to lead the way.

So the four of us walked back to the car.

Me, Alex, Bobby, and Agent Ben Talbert of the Drug Enforcement Agency.

We walked in silence, and when we arrived at the car, we all leaned against it rather than getting inside of it. I don't know about the others, but I was in no mood to be sitting.

However, Talbert leaned up against the back door, and then quickly jumped away when Dynamite put his paws on the window from the inside and started barking.

"What the…"

"What, you don't take your dog to work with you?" I asked him.

"Inspector," he said in annoyance.

"Agent," I countered.

"Are you going to tell me what these two were doing breaking into the trunk of that car?"

"Are you going to tell us what caused you to start following that car?"

"Enough with the pissing contest," Alex said sharply. "We're on the same team here. Sort of."

"And we're on a tight time table. We need more information," Bobby added.

"I don't know what I can tell you."

"You can start by answering her questions," Bobby said.

"I don't answer to you," Talbert replied.

"Oh for Christ's sake!" I shouted. "You want us out of your hair? Then tell us why you were following that car!"

He sighed heavily but then he finally started talking.

"I've been tailing Manny Valero."

"Since he got out on bail?" Alex asked him.

"Before then, too. I've been watching him for nearly six months."

"So you have evidence of him killing Ramone Cortez?"

"I'm not at liberty to…"

He broke off his sentence when I grabbed him by the front of his jacket and shoved him against the car.

"You've got evidence against a murdering drug dealer who is threatening the life of _my_ witness? I don't even _need_ her as a witness if you can back up the charges!"

"I'm building a case against him."

"We _have_ a case against him! And if you have hard proof then my witness is off the hook. Instead, we're chasing after an innocent victim whose being held until I can produce the witness because Valero thinks that she's the only one who can take him down, all the while you…"

"Can make her importance go away," he finished with an acknowledging nod. "I get it."

I let go of his jacket and took a step back from him. This was unbelievable.

"Do you? Do you get how vital it is that you stop dicking around with your evidence gathering and actually admit that you have something?"

"What do you need to know?"

"The car," Alex told him.

"The car showed up at Valero's house this morning. An unidentified woman got out and then drove away in another car that was in the driveway."

"An unidentified woman?" Bobby questioned, taking a step closer to the agent.

"Kara Quintana," he admitted.

"Keep going," Alex encouraged. "What kind of car did Kara get into?"

"Is that what this is about? Kara Quintana? She's just one runner."

"And now she's a kidnapper," I told him.

"So wait, she dropped a car at Valero's and you followed it…how did you know that there were drugs in the car?" Alex asked Talbert.

"That's their m.o. Kara flies in and rents a car. Then she takes it to Valero's. He puts the blow in the trunk, drives over here, and then leaves the car. Last week, we caught them in the act. Three runners came here, split the drugs, and headed back to their respective cities with plans to unload the product, but instead we picked them all up. Today we were hoping to catch three more."

"Because you got a hit that Kara had rented a car."

"Right. She uses the name Leila Merck."

"Okay. That fills in a few blanks," I said. "But we need to know what kind of car Kara got into at Valero's."

"2010 Subaru Outback. Dark blue. Colorado plates, 8N60Q2," he spouted off.

"You mother fucker," I muttered as I pulled out my phone.

He had that kind of detailed information and yet we'd had to play ring around the fucking rosy to get it.

"You know, you could've said that from the beginning," I continued. "If our victim gets killed because of your games, I'm coming back to find you."

"Mary?" Stan answered, apparently hearing my warning to the DEA dick.

"Stan, we need to find a car."

"I told you where the car was."

"Not that one. She switched it," I told him, and then I read off the information that I had.

"I don't know what I can get on it. We don't even know for sure if it has a GPS, so it's not the same as tracking down the rental."

I wracked my brain for a way to get what I needed, but I was coming up empty.

"Mary," Alex said as she pulled out her phone. "Get me the VIN."

"What are you going to do with it?"

"I know people," she answered. "We hacked you, right?"

**

* * *

**

Lupo POV

I wasn't having a good day.

Sure, it seemed like it on the surface.

Other than the fact that I'd overslept, I'd gotten to pick up an abusive boyfriend, and I'd gotten a confession from Candi. I'd also exposed a lawyer with questionable ties, so I should be happy.

_Right? _

Except that I wasn't.

Because I had trouble believing that Candi had stolen the money just to keep for herself.

She wasn't like April.

She didn't want to get out of the business.

She _thrived _on the business.

But Ross had said the case was done, and Bernard had agreed with him.

The Gorens' address hadn't been accessed.

The money was accounted for.

Whatever Stoat had planned for Alex was never going to come to fruition.

So I had nothing but my gut to back up my misgivings.

But I did have Mike and Carolyn.

So I'd asked them to wait for a few minutes. And while they waited, I ran copies of all of the phone records, and the notes that we had on them so far. It wouldn't hurt for them to keep looking, and it was coming up on the weekend anyway.

I could help once I got through the work day.

I went back to the break room where they'd been waiting for me. They filled me in briefly on Mike's conversation with Bobby, and then I told them about my uncertainties involving the case.

And of course, they were more than willing to help, so I handed off the paperwork to them and then I headed back to my desk. Along the way, my cell phone rang.

It was Alex.

"I need your help," she said when I answered. "It's urgent."

I grabbed a pencil and paper from the nearest desk.

"Shoot."

"I'm going to give you a VIN. We need to know where this car is. It's a 2010, and I'm betting the owner put some kind of tracking device on it for his own purposes, so we need it hacked," she told me quickly. "You do know a hacker, right?"

My 'black ops shit' guy.

"Yeah. Go."

She gave me the number, and asked me again to hurry, so I hung up with her and gave my guy a call.

No time for driving to Secaucus this time.

"Are you calling from a land line?" the guy answered.

"No," I replied. "Come on, man. This is urgent."

"How do they know it's trackable?" he chattered after I supplied him with the VIN. I would've yelled at him, but I could also hear his fingers striking the keyboard, so I knew that he was working while he was talking.

"Not every car is trackable, you know," he continued. "I mean, who is this guy and why do they think he'd be needing to…oh shit. I got it."

"You know where it is?"

"Well, yeah. Isn't that what you needed to know?"

"Give me the address!"

"Sure. Jeez. Take a pill, dude. 536 Miller Street, Arvada, Colorado."

"Great," I said, and I nearly hung up, but then I added, "Keep an eye on it. If it moves, you call me back. Got it?"

"Yeah, man. Shit. Who is this guy? Is he a murderer? Or maybe a drug dealer? Or maybe…"

I hung up on his musings, and called Alex back. Bobby answered.

I knew that Alex liked to drive, so I could only guess that they were already on the move.

"My guy's sitting on it," I told him after I gave him the address. "If it moves, I'll tell you."

"We owe you," he told me. "For more than just this, I'm hoping."

Ah. Travis Donker.

I'd almost forgotten about him in all of this excitement.

"He's sitting in lock-up as we speak," I told him. "I managed to find an ADA willing to draw out the process."

"I'll get details when we get back," he said firmly. "Keep me posted on this car."

We hung up and I let out a breath.

The adrenaline from their moment had me re-energized, and it also had me convinced that my gut wasn't wrong.

There was still some kind of evidence in those phone records.

I went to Ross' office and knocked as I pulled open the door and stuck my head in.

"Cap, I need to take the rest of the day."

"You're leaving?"

"I…um…"

For some reason, I couldn't lie to him.

He was a good man, and I had a healthy respect not only for his position but for him as well.

"Yes?" he encouraged.

"I want to finish analyzing those phone records," I admitted. "Mike and Carolyn are looking through them now, and I want to help."

"You made copies?"

Because the originals were in the file that Bernard had put on Ross' desk only minutes ago.

"Yes sir."

"Even though I said that the case was closed?"

"Yes sir."

"Why?"

"I just think that there's something else there."

"What evidence do you have to back up your theory?"

"Nothing concrete. Not yet anyway. It's just a feeling."

"A hunch. You want to take a day off to explore your hunch," he stated as he sat back in his chair and looked at me.

"I…it's just that…I don't believe Candi. I don't believe she wanted that money for herself."

"Tell me why."

"It was in a bag under her coffee table," I reminded him. "They stole it more than a week ago. If she was going to keep it, wouldn't she have put it somewhere…I don't know…safe? I can understand that she didn't want to just deposit it into her bank account, but to leave it in a duffle bag? In the living room? I think she was going to make a payment."

Ross was quiet for a minute and then he slowly nodded.

"Okay, what else?"

"Stoat wanted revenge on Bobby," I stated. "And he thought that killing Alex was the way to get it."

"But Stoat is dead."

"Yeah, and Candi loved him. So much so that she would do anything for him. You don't think that she'd try to carry out the plan as a final tribute to him?"

"Okay, Detective."

"Okay?"

"You don't have to burn vacation time. If you disagree with me, then tell me," he said. "I have no problem keeping this investigation open a little longer."

"Thank you, Cap."

"Don't thank me. Just get to the bottom of this. Pull Bernard back into it, too. And what the hell, let the Logans work from here. They're going to do it anyway, so they may as well stay where I can keep an eye on them."

"Yes sir," I agreed with a grin.

I gave him an appreciative nod, and then turned to leave.

"And Lupo," he said as I opened the door.

"I know, Cap. I'll keep you in the loop."

TBC...


	49. Chapter 49

**Strathmore POV**

* * *

Kara sat on the front of the car and made her call.

After a minute or so, she shoved the phone into her pocket and pulled out what looked like a garage door opener.

_What is she doing_, I wondered. What is that thing?

But before I could process any speculation, I felt a deep rumble in the ground. It was almost like an earthquake, but when combined with the sudden reddish haze in the sky, I recognized it for what it was.

An explosion.

My heart sank at the realization that she had probably just blown up Rollins' house.

With Alex and Bobby in it?

No. She wouldn't kill them. Not now.

What would be the point?

How could they help her get to Heidi if she killed them now?

Kara hopped down from the hood and opened the door.

"Okay, time to go," she said pertly. She climbed behind the wheel and started the engine.

"You just blew up the house," I stated, still mentally attempting to convince myself that my friends were okay.

"Well, aren't you the astute one?" she chirped as she drove the car recklessly down the sloping road.

I struggled to keep myself from being tossed onto the floor.

I waited for her to say more, but she didn't. Instead, she turned on the radio and sang along badly to CCR.

Which gave me time to think.

She was watching for a reason. If she'd just wanted to blow the place up, she could've done it earlier after she put me in the car.

No, she watched to make sure that they got out.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves.

I felt confident in my assessment.

Alex and Bobby were still okay, and they were surely still doing everything in their power to get me out of this mess. Between them and Mary, I had no doubt that they would track me down at whatever location she was whisking me off to.

But still…I couldn't just wait around for them to help.

I needed to help myself.

Twenty minutes later, the car turned into a driveway and came to a stop. Judging by the turns made and the speed driven, I guessed us to be somewhere in northwest Denver. Not that this information helped me much.

Who was I going to tell?

Kara got out of the vehicle and then opened the back door. I heard the click of the safety being moved into the _off_ position.

"Let's go, pretty boy. No sudden movements, okay? Just because I don't want to kill you doesn't meant that I won't."

She stood back as I scooted myself out of the car and onto my feet. It was awkward maneuvering, but she kept her distance and waiting patiently for me to get out.

"Go. Front door," she instructed, waving the barrel of the gun towards the front of the house.

I walked through the snow as I surreptitiously took in my surroundings.

Decent, middle-class neighborhood. The kind where most inhabitants were working families.

So kids were at school and parents were at work.

Everything was quiet.

There were no other cars in the driveway at this particular house, either.

"Who lives here?" I asked as I waited for her to unlock the door.

"Don't worry about it," she replied.

I _was_ slightly worried about it, but at least she had a key. For a minute there, I'd thought that maybe she was breaking into someone's home for the afternoon. I didn't want any more people involved in this mess, so I was glad to see that wasn't the case.

"We'll wait here until time to go meet your friends," she said as she pushed the door open.

I went into the house and looked around. I kept my face impassive as I visually scanned the place for something that might aid in my escape.

"Sit down over there," she told me, pointing to the far wall.

There was a fireplace along that wall, with a brick hearth.

And that was it. There was nothing else within five feet of the wall. It was like they had prepared for this and had shifted all of the furniture across the room. Although, I guess they probably _had_ prepared for it.

They probably figured that it was as safe a place as any. Away from furniture, away from the windows, and far away from the door.

But they were wrong.

Because as I sat down next to the right side of the hearth, one of the bricks snagged my slacks, creating a small tear, which of course gave me an idea. And I'll have to credit Carolyn with the idea, because she'd told me about her escape from her supply closet prison. She'd mentioned how she'd gotten free from the duct tape.

Kara walked around an island counter into the kitchen. I was still plainly visible from where she stood, so I guess she wasn't too concerned about me attempting to go anywhere.

"Be good and I won't tie your feet together, okay?"

"I'm just going to sit right here."

"I think I can see why Heidi liked you so much," she remarked conversationally as she pulled a bottle of water from the fridge. "You're smart, you're amenable, you're easy on the eyes…and she told me that you're pretty good in bed, too."

"I'm the perfect man," I said drolly.

"Maybe you are," she agreed, ignoring my sarcasm. "Throw in those millions you've got, and you just might be. It's a shame you had to get mixed up in this."

"You mixed me up in this," I reminded her. I shifted slightly as I said the words, presumably so that I was angled more towards her, but in actuality, I'd moved just enough to find that sharp brick.

And then I carefully started moving my hands over it so that the jagged edge ran back and forth across the cable tie. I wasn't sure if it would work. I mean, cable ties weren't duct tape. But I had to try it.

"Honey, you got yourself into this mess. You've thought that Heidi was dead for ten years. You couldn't just move on to the next warm body like a normal guy?"

"I needed to know what happened to her."

"Why? What good did that do you?"

"It helped me find the truth, didn't it?"

"The truth," she scoffed. "What do you know?"

"I know that you got Heidi dragged into the drug business with you."

"She was a broke, uneducated thief. She lied her way into her job and into your bed. She was no saint."

"She lied to get her job," I corrected. "Not to get me."

"Oh, so she told you how she had a shoplifting fetish back in high school? She told you that she never went to college? She told you about the thousands of dollars of debt she wracked up while trying to pretend to be a big shot?"

"No, but she could have. I wouldn't have cared about any of that."

"Please. You would've tossed her out on her worthless ass."

"How did you know about the college thing?" I asked her, shoving down the anger that filled me at her derogatory words.

I couldn't afford to lose my cool right now.

"One of my boyfriends went to UVA for a year. He made a comment to her once about how crazy it would get on Tyler Road when the Cavs had a home game. She had a whole conversation with him about it, like she knew exactly what he was talking about."

"Maybe she did."

"She didn't. Obviously you didn't go there either."

"Why do you say that?"

"I told you that he only went to UVA for a year, right? Well, after he got kicked out of there, he went to Radford. Tyler Road is in Radford. He'd meant to say Emmet Street."

"Maybe she just didn't want to call him out on his mistake," I suggested.

"Maybe," she agreed. "But I still checked her out."

"That's how you got her, isn't it? You threatened to out her about her lies."

"Yes. And at the same time, I offered her the chance to make enough money to clear her debt. Does that make me such a horrible person? Maybe. But I know that I'm a hell of a lot better than that little bitch, because she crumbled when push came to shove. She could've just said no, but instead she went to the damn feds."

The whole time that Kara talked, she waved the gun around, and as she finished her statement, she slammed it down onto the counter.

It had become secondary to her.

She'd almost forgotten her point for having it.

I redoubled my efforts on the cable ties, mindless of the fact that the brick was also doing a nice job of cutting into my wrists.

I also amped up my efforts at getting Kara angry.

"She could've said no?" I asked incredulously. "And you would've just let it go? You already admitted that you threatened to tell her boss about her lies. She had no choice. You had her over a barrel."

"I was trying to help her!"

"You wanted to have control over her."

"Shut the fuck up, John. You don't know what you're talking about," she ground out, and she began to pace the kitchen.

While the gun still sat on the counter.

"Yes I do. You got yourself into this mess, and then you pulled her right along with you. You could've just left her alone. But instead you extorted her into the crosshairs of a drug czar."

"It doesn't matter," she said firmly as she finally came to a stop. "It's done. I'm going to help Manny clean up this mess, and then I'm out of the business for good."

"Is that what he promised you? That you could walk away once the threat of Heidi's testimony is gone?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"It's never going to happen," I told her.

And right then, I felt the ties give away. The pressure eased on my shoulders, and it was all I could do to maintain my arms in their original position.

"Why not? You think he won't let me go?"

"Heidi's not coming here. Or anywhere near here. There's not going to be any exchange."

"The marshal will take your place," she said resolutely. "He's not just going to stand idly by and let an innocent person get killed."

"Even if the marshal does want to take my place, you'll never find Heidi. You need to come to grips with that."

"How can you be so…you've talked to her! You've seen her, haven't you?"

"No."

"But you talked to the marshal about her."

"Yes, I did," I admitted. And I figured there was no harm in saying that. "And you know what? She's happy. She's safe. And your little game here…well, it's over. You may as well just kill me now, because no one is going to meet you to make a deal."

"It's not over!" she yelled, and she took several steps towards me, pointing her finger at me, before she remembered her gun.

She turned to go back for it and that was my cue. I leapt to my feet and threw myself at her from behind, launching both of us across the floor into the kitchen.

She screamed in surprise, and I nearly screamed as well, only in agony because my arms did not want to cooperate after so long in that same position.

But my body weight on top of hers helped to buy me time until my arms started functioning properly. I was able to wrestle her hands behind her and then sit back with my knees on either side of her body.

I didn't have anything to tie her up with, so I managed to get to my feet and I hauled her up with me. I tugged her along with me through the kitchen as I held her wrists with one hand and searched drawers with the other.

"They're going to kill you," she warned, but the fight had gone out of her. She knew that without the gun she was no match for me.

After opening three useless drawers, I found an extension cord in the fourth, so I used that to bind her hands behind her back, and then to secure her to a kitchen chair.

Then I fetched the gun from the counter. I wasn't exactly sure what I was going to do with Kara, but while I pondered that, I reached into her pocket and retrieved my cell phone. She'd apparently taken out the battery in an effort to disable the GPS, so I shoved the useless equipment into my own pocket and took a step back from her.

I needed to get the hell out of this house before reinforcements showed up.

"They can come after me if they want," I said foolishly.

These were drug dealers, and they wanted me in order to obtain information that was vital to keeping Valero out of jail.

I was probably as good as dead.

Shit, maybe Mary could put _me_ in witsec.

"No, you don't get it," she insisted. "They _are_ going to kill you."

And then I noticed her eyes shift past my head and towards the front door. I whirled around and saw the door handle jiggling.

Valero?

Or Alex and Bobby?

I aimed the gun at the door and held my breath.

TBC...


	50. Chapter 50

**Alex POV**

* * *

I drove like a woman possessed to the address in Arvada that Lupo's hacker genius had produced.

"I don't know who your source is," Mary said as she held onto the dash with both hands. "But he needs to apply with the Marshal Service."

"I'll be sure to get the word out," I replied wryly. I had no idea who Lupo's guy was either, but I was pretty damn sure that he wasn't going to be putting his name on any sort of federal application.

"Who else do you think is going to be here?" Bobby asked as we neared our destination.

"Not Valero," Talbert spoke up.

He'd offered to ride along as back-up. I think that he was just afraid Mary would arrest Valero and get the credit for it, but either way I was happy to have the extra gun.

"My guys are sitting on him," he continued. "We'll get a heads-up if he moves."

As though on cue, Talbert's phone rang.

"Talk to me," he said when he punched the button on his phone. "Uh huh...are you fucking kidding me? Find him!"

He hung up his phone and took a moment to let out a heavy, disgusted sigh.

"Your guys lost him, huh?" Mary asked. And it sounded like a smartass comment, but there was empathy in there somewhere.

"Yeah," he admitted. "But he left his place of business in a black Lincoln. And he's headed west on I-70."

"West, as in towards Arvada?" I asked.

"Could be. If he's at the house when we get there, he's my first priority."

"You mean as opposed to the innocent civilian?" Mary asked.

"He's _your_ priority," Talbert countered.

And then the two of them bickered back and forth over professionalism and sense of responsibility, and I'm pretty sure that I heard the words _narrow-minded, pea-brained _and_ pencil dick_ come out of Mary's mouth.

But mostly I ignored them and focused on driving.

Within fifteen minutes of learning the address from Lupo, I turned onto Miller Street.

"Slow down," Talbert said.

"No shit," Mary replied at the same time my foot hit the brake. "She's not an idiot."

"You know, I could've just stayed back with the others and waited for the drug runners."

"Yeah, you could've. Maybe that wouldn't have been such a bad idea."

"Or I could've arrested you three for interfering in a federal investigation."

"Or I could've arrested _you_ three for interfering in a federal investigation," Mary countered.

"Hey," I said as I neared the house. But the two of them were arguing again and no one heard me, so I said it again only this time much louder. "Hey!"

"What?"

"Black Lincoln."

Everyone in the car fell silent as we all watched four men get out of a black Lincoln that was parked in a driveway halfway down the street.

And it was parked alongside a dark blue Subaru.

"Shit," Mary said. "Your guys not only lost him, but they were slow letting you know about it."

"Uh huh," Talbert agreed. "Four of them, plus at least one already in the house. So we've got five hostiles and one innocent."

"We need to rush them," Bobby said. "They won't be expecting us. And we need to do it fast before they try to leave."

"Are we sure that your guy is here?" Talbert asked.

Good question.

Were we sure?

All we knew was that Kara had driven away from Valero's house this morning in this car.

And she had taken John from Rollins' house.

And now the car was here.

It wasn't exactly an airtight chain of events but I felt fairly confident.

"Even if he's not, we can pick up the other guys," I said. "Valero is getting arrested today one way or another, right?"

"Right," Mary answered before Talbert could say anything. "You've got guys still sitting on Valero's house, too, right?"

"Yeah," Talbert agreed.

Mary just held his gaze and gave him a knowing nod.

He pulled out his phone.

"Okay, you're right. Let's do this. I'll have my guys take the house. We'll get Valero. Let's end this whole mile high ring right now."

"Okay," Bobby said. "Good. Alex, block the car in the drive. Mary, you and Talbert take the back, we'll take the front."

"How do you know there's only two exits?"

"I don't. But with our limited personnel, I think that's our best bet."

"I'll request some back-up, too," Talbert said as he held the phone to his ear.

"That's fine, but we're not waiting," I told him.

"I understand."

He finished his call as I pulled the car sideways across the end of the driveway.

Then we got out, weapons drawn, and hurried up to the house.

At the front of the structure, we paused against the brick wall.

"Valero just got here. I think it's worth the time to take a quick look," Mary said as she looked at me and Bobby for confirmation.

He gave her a nod, so she took off running toward the back of the house.

"We'll confirm the doors and time the entry," I said.

"They'll be armed to the teeth," Talbert informed us. As if we couldn't have guessed it.

But still, I was glad he was with us. Like I said, the extra gun was worth his annoying condescension.

"Bobby was right," Mary said when she returned. "Big surprise there, huh? There's a door in the back, near the middle. It looks to be slightly offset from the front door, but not much."

"Watch out for crossfire," Talbert warned.

"We'll go at thirty seconds," Bobby said. "Ready?"

I would've liked to have a vest on for a situation like this.

I would've liked for _Bobby_ to have a vest on. He's a much bigger target than me, and he's usually considered to be the biggest threat.

But no sense dwelling on something that wasn't going to happen.

This was our situation. We'd make the best of it.

I gave him a nod, and the others did too.

"Okay," he said. "Go."

**

* * *

**

Strathmore POV

Okay, here's the thing.

I'm not all that crazy about guns.

It doesn't bother me to be around people who carried them. In fact, everyone in my new circle of friends carried a gun.

But that didn't mean that I wanted to carry one.

But that also didn't mean that I couldn't appreciate their usefulness in a situation like this.

However, what it _did_ mean was that I wasn't all that adept at using one.

After securing Kara, I'd picked it up off of the counter simply as a precaution. I wanted her to think that I might use it.

But I have never fired a gun before.

In fact, I'd been surprised by the heft of it when I'd picked it up. I had no idea what kind it was, or what caliber.

Hell I couldn't even swear to the fact that it was ready to fire.

I assumed that it was. I knew that Kara had the safety on, and then at some point she'd clicked it off. It was back on now.

I hoped that meant that all I needed to do was switch it off and then pull the trigger.

And as I stood frozen, watching the door handle jiggle while someone either used a key or attempted to pick the lock, depending on who was getting ready to enter the house, I flipped off the safety and aimed at the door.

But then a wave of fear went through me.

What if I fired by accident?

What if it was Alex? Or Bobby? Or Mary?

What if it was any one of them and I fired out of inexperience and ineptitude?

I couldn't risk it.

I lowered the gun.

If it was Valero, then I could raise the gun in a split second and fire.

If it wasn't him, then I'd be pointing it at the floor and any accidental slip of the trigger would be harmless.

"You're a dead man," Kara taunted in a sing-songy voice.

I ignored her, focused intently on the door as it swung open and in walked Valero, along with three other equally intimidating-looking men.

My arm felt like lead as I raised the gun and aimed it in the direction of their shocked faces.

They all reached for their guns as I pulled the trigger.

Click.

Nothing.

I pulled it again as the others started laughing and tucked their guns back into their waistbands.

Nothing.

One guy, who looked nearly like a square because he was so short and so wide, came at me with unexpected quickness while I tried, like an idiot, to pull the trigger a third time.

His fist met my face with stunning force that knocked me onto my ass.

"We don't give that bitch a loaded gun, pendejo," he mocked as he stood over me.

I had no idea what _pendejo_ was but I could make a pretty good guess just by the way he said it.

And I had to wonder as to my sanity that I was pondering the definition at all while lying flat on my back with a guy standing over me who looked like Spongebob and hit like Tyson.

"Now get your ass up," he said as he grabbed a fistful of my shirt and hauled me to my feet. Then he stepped around behind me and put his thick hands around my wrists to keep my hands behind my back.

"Kara, what the fuck?" another guy said. Although I noticed that none of them made any move to untie her.

"_Me _what the fuck?" she yelled back. "What the fuck took _you_ guys so long? You didn't say you were gonna leave me alone with him for so fucking long. Shit. He's like twice my size. What the fuck did you think was gonna happen?"

"I thought you was gonna tie his ass up and hold him at gun point," Valero said calmly from his position near the door.

"I _did_ tie him," she argued. "Mother fucker broke through the cable ties. I thought you said that shit wouldn't break!"

"What d'ya wanna do with him?" Spongebob asked Valero. "We still need him, right?"

Valero walked further into the room until he was standing in front of me. He was a good six inches shorter than me, but he came toe to toe with me and then slowly looked me up and down.

I could say that I wasn't scared.

But that would be a fucking lie.

This guy looked like he would just as soon kill me as look at me. And I had no means with which to defend myself.

"Where is Heidi?" he asked me carefully.

"I don't know," I answered.

"I think I almost believe you," he said after a moment. "But tell me this. Who is the marshal that's hiding her?"

"I don't know," I said again.

He shook his head at me, and then nodded at the guy behind me who promptly kicked me in the back of the knees, forcing me down into a kneeling position.

Valero pulled his gun from his waistband and then looked at me with a smile before pulling back the slide.

"I'm going to ask you again" he said as he pressed the gun against my forehead. "Let's see if you can get it right this time. What's the name of the marshal?"

I thought about making up a name, but then what if that was a real person?

And I sure as hell wasn't going to give him Mary's name, so instead I kept my mouth shut, and I closed my eyes.

I've had a decent life. I worked hard and made a name for myself. I got the chance to meet my brother and to be at least a small part of his life.

I had no serious regrets.

I really didn't want to die, but if that's what was in the cards for me today, then the least I could do was die like a man.

I opened my eyes and looked straight at Valero.

"Go to hell."

"What, you think you're fucking Bruce Willis, bitch?" he yelled and then he hit me with his gun.

My head whipped to the side from the force of the blow, but I righted myself and continued to look him in the eye.

"Don't pull that macho shit on me!" he shouted as he jammed the barrel against my forehead again. "Tell me who the fucking marshal is!"

And then came the chaos.

The front door to the house burst open, and I could hear a crashing sound from behind me as well.

"Drop your weapon! Drop it now!"

"Federal agent, drop your weapon!"

Spongebob let go of my hands and Valero whirled around toward the door, so I dropped to the floor and put my hands over my head.

Gun fire rang out, immediately and continually, for what felt like forever.

I could smell the strong scent of gunpowder and my ears had long-since quit hearing any sound other than the repeated booms.

And then everything went completely quiet.

TBC...


	51. Chapter 51

**Bobby POV**

* * *

Alex and I waited and ticked off the seconds, neither of us speaking them aloud but both of us perfectly in sync.

I wanted to go through the door first, but I didn't say it.

Because that wasn't how we did things.

She was short enough to give me a clear line of sight, even from behind her, so it only made sense to let her be first. Otherwise, her view would be completely blocked by my body.

We didn't have to talk about it.

That's just how it was.

I would kick in the door and she would rush through.

I wish we had vests.

The best thing about this scenario was that Valero wouldn't be expecting us.

There was no way that he'd be anticipating that Kara had been followed. Not with the orchestrated explosion, and the change of cars prior to the kidnapping, and the current location that was not in any of his gang members' files.

In fact, we had no idea who the house even belonged to. We hadn't bothered to look, because it didn't really matter.

The car was here, so we were here.

Twenty-seven.

I held my eyes locked onto Alex's.

Twenty-eight.

_Be careful._

Twenty-nine.

_I love you. _

Thirty.

I kicked in the front door and in we went. Our timing with Mary and Talbert was impeccable, as they came rushing through the back door simultaneously.

There was John, on his knees in front of Valero, with a gun against his head. One man was behind John and two others stood nearby. They all pulled guns from their waistbands.

"Drop your weapon! Drop it now!" Alex shouted as she circled around to the right.

"Federal agent, drop your weapon!" I heard Mary yell.

The four of us spread like wildfire around the four men in the room. Our entry had caused Valero to shift his focus off of John and onto us.

But none of the men complied with our commands.

Instead, the one nearest Alex brought his gun up quickly, but before he could squeeze off a round, I shot him.

He dropped like a rock and then the pandemonium began.

The next two minutes were a haze of gun fire and shouts and cries of pain, until finally the last of the shots were fired and a cloud of smoke settled over the room.

**

* * *

**

Mary POV

Sometimes time goes quickly and sometimes it crawls. And then sometimes it seems to do both, although I'm not exactly sure how that works.

But as I burst into the kitchen with Talbert on my heels, that's how it felt.

Amazingly fast and yet slow enough that I felt as though I was watching the scene unfold frame by frame.

Alex and Bobby were across from us.

John was on his knees in the middle of the room and Valero was standing over him.

At our combined shouts for the suspects to drop their weapons, Valero moved the aim of his weapon from John to Bobby.

John, being unarmed, got down on the floor and covered his head.

I'd have to kiss him for that later.

One suspect pointed his weapon at Alex, ready to fire, but Bobby was quicker and took him out.

While that was happening, Valero raised his gun a little higher so that he was sighted in on Bobby's head.

That's when I fired. Valero's head exploded from the force of my 10mm Glock. I don't normally go for a head shot, but the situation warranted the use of deadly force. I sure as hell wasn't going to risk him still being able to pull the trigger.

The remaining two suspects were split, one shooting toward the kitchen and the other shooting toward the living room. I saw Alex duck behind a recliner, and then pop up to return fire.

Another suspect went down.

Talbert and I dropped behind the island counter for cover from the remaining gunman.

Or so I thought.

But Talbert went all the way down to the floor, and I felt the splatter of wetness along my arm that had been closest to him.

I worked my way around to the end of the counter, preparing to come at the suspect from an unexpected angle, but then I heard a loud thud as he fell to the floor.

I paused for a moment as the sound of gunfire ceased.

For a split second, the room was in complete silence.

And then it was as if someone hit the fast-forward button.

I jumped up and looked across the room.

Kara started screaming.

"Bobby? Alex?" I yelled over the din.

"We're good," Bobby answered as he hurried toward the fallen suspects, his gun still at the ready.

Pulses had to be checked, weapons confiscated, first aid administered if necessary…

"We need a bus here," I told them as I bent down to check the suspect on the ground in front of me. "Talbert's down. John, you okay?"

"Yeah," he called back.

"This guy's DOA," I concluded, and then I turned to Kara. "Hey, shut up!"

"Two DOAs in here," Alex said. "One is still breathing. Throw me your cuffs."

I tossed her my cuffs and she slapped them roughly on the bleeding man who was lying at her feet.

Then I threw my phone at John who, even though he appeared bloody and slightly unsteady, looked like he needed something to do.

"Call 9-1-1," I instructed. I rattled off the address as I dropped to my knees to check on Talbert.

"You weren't supposed to get yourself shot," I told him as I tugged on his shirt.

"It wasn't exactly the plan," he ground out.

Alex came around the counter and got down on the other side of him.

"Where's he hit?" she asked.

"What?"

I couldn't hear her because Kara was still screaming.

"You!" Alex yelled, pointing her gun at the hysterical woman. "Shut the hell up or you're next!"

Kara promptly closed her mouth. I didn't blame the girl. I knew damn well that Alex would never shoot her, but still…she could be pretty scary when she wanted to be.

"Looks like a through and through to the right lower quadrant," I told Alex after checking out Talbert's injury. "I guess we'll have matching scars, Talbert."

"Your civilian?" he asked me.

"He looks okay," I said.

"What about Valero?"

"Hey, what do you know? You asked about my civilian first. Maybe you aren't such a dickhead after all."

He chuckled lightly, but then took in a sharp breath at the pain that action had caused.

"Valero?" he asked again, only this time looking at Alex.

"He's dead," she confirmed. "Only one guy is left alive. Bobby's got him in custody."

"Good," he replied.

"Yes it is," I said. "Now quit talking. Save your energy."

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

An hour after the shoot-out, I sat in the waiting room at Saint Anthony's with Bobby.

John was in the back getting x-rays on his face to confirm that nothing was broken.

Talbert was getting prepped for surgery.

Mary was at the desk talking to a nurse to get updated status reports on both of them.

We still had statements to give, and evidence to turn over, and questions to answer.

But for the moment, I sat in the chair and leaned my head against Bobby's shoulder.

"Are you okay?" he asked me quietly.

"I'm just glad everyone made it out alive."

"Not Valero."

"I don't feel bad about Valero. Please tell me that you don't, either."

"No. We gave him the opportunity to make the right choice, and he didn't. None of them did."

The remaining survivor, the one I'd shot, was getting treatment for his wounds, but there were FBI agents and DEA agents waiting for him. They would probably argue over which agency had jurisdiction, but I didn't care about that.

Kara was currently in the custody of the FBI. Again, there would be bargaining over who got to press charges first, but ultimately she would spend the rest of her days in prison.

She was guilty of the kidnapping of John and the murder of Keyes, not to mention whatever other myriad of crimes she'd committed prior to coming to Denver today.

Bobby still had the taped confession of Keyes on his cell phone. We'd turn that over later. I wasn't completely convinced that there was enough evidence to do any damage to Lovell and that was really bugging me.

"Did Keyes mention him?" I asked Bobby, knowing he'd be following the same train of though. "In his confession?"

"He did, but I'm not sure if it's enough to keep Lovell from slipping out."

"Maybe there will be something at Valero's house. Or Keyes' house. There has to be a paper trail somewhere that can back up Keyes' statement of Lovell's involvement."

Because despite all that we'd accomplished by coming to Denver…unraveling the mystery of Heidi, thwarting a drug ring, exposing crooked cops…I still didn't have a sense of completion until we got them all.

And that included Lovell.

"John should be out in a few more minutes," Mary told us as she flopped heavily into a chair across from us. "And Talbert will be here a few days probably, but he's going to be fine. The nurse called his wife, so she's on her way."

"He has a wife?" I asked sardonically. "Huh. I can't imagine."

"I know," Mary agreed with a smile.

We all sat in quiet for a moment. I don't know about them, but I was rehashing the moment when I'd run through the front door and found John on his knees in front of Valero.

If Lupo's guy hadn't been able to get the location of the car, or even if we'd just been a few minutes later…

I couldn't think like that. No what ifs.

"So I guess your witness is safe now," I said. "Valero's empire is crumbling as we speak."

"She should be," she said. "I'll get her statement and have her decipher Valero's files so that we can work on arresting and prosecuting the remaining participants, but yeah. I'd say that the bulk of the danger has been eradicated. You guys do good work."

"You, too," I told her, and I held her eye for a minute, hoping to convey what I wasn't going to say out loud.

_Thank you_.

I'd seen the shot she took to keep Valero from firing at Bobby. It hadn't been an easy one, and if she'd hesitated at all…

Again, no what ifs.

But I also wasn't going to say the words, because I knew enough about Mary already to know that she'd deflect any outward offering of appreciation.

But she did give me a subtle nod and a little smile before looking away.

She knew that I knew.

That was enough.

I felt the buzzing of Bobby's phone where it rested in his pocket. I eased away from him so that he could pull it out.

"It's Lupo," he told me.

I'd called Logan on the way to the hospital to give him a very brief update.

We had John back. Everyone was fine. We'd probably fly home tomorrow.

But I hadn't talked to Lupo, and I was curious as to why he was calling Bobby.

Was it something about the hit? I'd nearly forgotten about that amidst everything else that was going on.

"Any luck?" Bobby asked when he answered the phone.

Mary gave me a questioning look, but I just shrugged.

"Really?" Bobby said as a smile slowly spread across his face. "Is he sure? Okay. Yeah, okay. We'll be home tomorrow. We'll all get together."

He hung up the phone and stuck it back in his pocket without saying a word.

"What?" I asked finally when I realized that he wasn't going to tell me.

"I sent Lupo a text on our way over here. I told him to get his guy to look into Lovell to see if he could connect him to anything that we knew about Valero. The cars, the house where we found John, anything."

"I've had my guys run Lovell," Mary said. "We've gotten nothing."

"Your guys should take lessons from our guy," Bobby replied.

"What did he find?" I asked, and the excitement rolled through me.

Because I wanted Lovell.

It was almost like Moran all over again.

A man in a position of power abusing it and stepping on everyone in his path by getting involved with drug dealers and covering up crimes.

What was up with all of these power-hungry people?

"Is it the house? Does that house belong to Lovell?" Mary asked, trying to guess since Bobby was drawing this thing out.

"No, it's better than that," I said as I watched Bobby's face. "He could say they'd broken into his house. That they didn't have permission to be there. He's like Teflon. It must be something really good."

"Lovell backs up his computer with an online storage service."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"No way," Mary said. "Our guys would've found that."

"It's under a pseudonym," Bobby said. "And he routes through several different IP addresses. But Lupo's guy is sure. He compared it with records he accessed through the Denver PD computer system. It's Lovell's files. _Incriminating _files because he thought they were hack-free. Lupo's sending me an email with the IP tracking information so that you can send it to your tech guys."

"So that they can stumble across it," Mary finished. She sat back in the chair and expelled a deep breath. "So that's it. We got them all."

"We got them all."

TBC...


	52. Chapter 52

**Bobby POV**

* * *

We were gathered in the hotel bar, mostly because Old Chicago had been pretty crowded.

And since the condition of John's face was such an attention-getter, we thought it would be best to avoid crowds.

Although in fairness, it wasn't just John.

I had a nice ugly cut along the side of my face, and my clothes were filthy from the day of falling in snow and being showered by debris.

Alex's clothes didn't look much better, although I was very happy to see that she was mostly unscathed. She probably had a few bruises, but those would have been caused by me pushing her to the ground, and I just couldn't bring myself to feel too bad about that.

The alternative was too horrifying.

As for Mary, she had blood along one side of her shirt and was nearly as dirty as Alex and I.

Suffice it to say, none of us had any business being in a busy restaurant on a Friday night.

But the hotel bar was nearly empty. And the consensus between the four of us was that we wanted a nice, quiet meal, a good night's sleep, and then tomorrow we would head for home.

John had called Rocco when we left the hospital to make arrangements for the plane to pick us up at ten o'clock in the morning.

He'd offered to have the plane go home via Albuquerque but Mary had declined, stating that she probably wouldn't be leaving town until tomorrow night considering that she'd have to meet back up with the feds to finish wrapping up the case.

"You know, I've known you guys for less than a month and I've made two trips to the emergency room," John said with an easy smile.

He seemed to be in a good mood, and it was hard to believe that only six hours ago he'd been about a minute away from death.

Of course, that was a funny thing about this line of work.

The pre-bust adrenaline, followed by the sometimes nearly paralyzing fear _during_ the bust, which - when met with a good outcome - was almost inevitably wrapped up by a post-bust rush of euphoria.

That's where John was at the moment.

Hell, that's where we all were.

"That's one more trip than I've made in the past twenty years combined," he added.

"So, what…does that mean you don't think that you want a career in law enforcement?" Mary asked him.

"I am perfectly happy residing over my empire, thank you very much," he answered as he leaned down to scratch Dynamite's ears.

Because yes, the dog was with us in the hotel bar.

The manager had been less than thrilled about it, but Mary had badged him and insisted that the dog was an integral part of a federal investigation. Her serious expression while spouting her statement had brought about stifled chuckles from the rest of us, but the manager hadn't challenged the claim.

And we still had the dog because apparently John had decided to take him home with him.

"He needs a new name," Alex said when our attention shifted to the golden mutt. "I don't think we need any more reminders of explosions or drugs."

"I think he looks like a Rex," Mary suggested.

"Rex it is then," John agreed.

And maybe he'd agreed because it was a good name.

Or maybe just because Mary had suggested it.

Either way, I guess John had a new friend.

We finished up dinner, and then Alex and I decided to make our exit.

"Put some ice on that face before you go to bed tonight," she said to John when we got up from the table. "It's going to hurt like hell tomorrow."

"Ah, the voice of experience," Mary said with a nod. "She's right. Ice it up."

"Will you be around in the morning?" I asked Mary.

Because I wasn't sure if this was it or not.

And she'd been a valuable asset to this investigation. I really couldn't be sure how things might've turned out if she hadn't been involved.

For that, I was grateful.

And besides that, I truly liked her.

"You're going to miss me, aren't you Bobby?" she asked with a grin. Then she gave me a nod and a shrug. "I'll be here to say my goodbyes."

So I took Alex by the hand and we headed for the elevator. It wasn't late, but we were both exhausted, so we got to the room and stripped out of our ruined clothing.

And maybe I'd underestimated the force with which I'd thrown Alex to the ground this morning.

She had several bruises along her ribcage and both of her knees were bluish purple.

To me, Alex has always seemed larger than life. She's this tremendous force to be reckoned with and it's so very easy to forget that all of that force comes in such a small package.

"Don't even think about saying it," she told me quietly when she noticed the focus of my gaze. "It was that, or…I don't want to know what."

"I'm sorry that I hurt you," I whispered as I pulled her into my arms.

Even though she didn't want to hear the words, how could I not say them?

She wrapped her arms around my waist and settled her cheek against my chest.

"I know you are. And we both know that you saved me from getting hurt even worse. So don't let that old guilt complex of yours take over, okay? It's a few bruises. They barely even hurt. And they'll heal."

I continued to hold her and I let her words sink in.

"Bobby?"

"Yeah," I murmured into her hair. "Okay. But let me do something for you, will you?"

I wanted to make her feel better, and although I had nothing specific in my mind when I'd said the words, her response elicited a number of ideas.

"What did you have in mind?"

**

* * *

**

Mary POV

"Aren't you tired?" John asked me when I ordered another round of drinks.

Truth was, I _was_ tired.

I was dead tired.

Or at least my body was.

But my mind was running a thousand miles an hour, and I was hoping that the alcohol would slow it down enough to bring it into harmony with my ragged-out body.

"Are you?" I asked instead of answering him.

"Yes. And no. I don't know. I just can't believe all that's happened today. And yet at the same time, it makes me understand a little better what Heidi must have gone through."

"Because once you faced Valero, you just wanted to see him go down," I said with understanding. I tilted my head and looked at him carefully. "It's very telling, you know."

"What's that?"

"How a person reacts in a crisis. It's a glimpse of their true character."

"You think?" he asked sincerely.

"I know. And you, my friend, are a very good man."

"How do you know how I acted? I could've been spilling my guts when you guys came in."

"Kara told me everything," I admitted. "Besides, I can tell by looking at your face. The bad guys don't usually beat you up so much when you tell them what they want to know."

"Oh, so if I'd have just given them your name…" he said with a grin.

"You could have," I replied earnestly. "It's not your job to protect me. I do what I do with a willing acceptance of the risks."

"Why do you…do what you do?" he asked me. "And I don't mean just the marshal service. I mean witness protection."

"I know," I said on a laugh. "It doesn't seem like me, does it? There's an awful lot of caring and empathy involved."

"That sounds exactly like you," he replied, and he reached over and put his hand on top of mine. I looked down and saw the rawness of his wrists from where the cable ties had bit into his skin.

"You're not as tough as you'd like people to think," he added, which was ironic considering I'd just been thinking that he was so much tougher than most people probably thought.

He was no desk jockey. He was a man's man.

"You don't think I'm tough?" I questioned. My mood had turned melancholy despite the exceptional outcome of the case.

There was more to life than just case work.

I turned my hand over beneath his so that I could clasp his fingers in mine.

It was a strange conversation and for some reason, it was almost making my heart hurt.

It was a finale-type conversation.

It was a good-bye.

And it made me sadder than I'd been in a very long time.

"I think you are one of the toughest people I know."

People. Not women. John didn't differentiate by specific characteristics but rather saw a person for who they were as a whole.

"Considering the group of people who you're friends with, I'll take that as a compliment."

"I'd hoped that you would," he said quietly, and he finally brought his eyes up to meet mine. And there they were, that solid dark brown. They had a depth to them that made me want to keep looking, searching for what lay beneath.

"I want to thank you for everything that you did on this case," he added. "And for watching over Heidi. It really means a lot to me, and I know that she'll always be safe."

"She'll be safe because you helped get rid of the threat against her," I deflected.

He gave me an acknowledging nod, and then the silence dragged out in between us.

I don't know what he was thinking about, but I was thinking about how much I wanted him.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked me. I gave him a shrug.

Going meant that we'd be that much closer to…what? The bedroom? Or the end? Or something in between?

"I'll pay the bill," I said.

Five minutes later, we stood outside of my room.

"Mary," he said, catching my attention and stopping me from unlocking the door. "I'm not coming in with you."

Now that I wasn't expecting.

Or maybe I was.

I turned around and was surprised to find him standing so close, especially considering that his words seemed like a rejection.

"You changed your mind?"

"No. No, I most definitely did not change my mind. I want to, I really do."

"But?"

"But I want more than this."

"Oh," I said, unable to keep the disappointment from my voice.

"More than this _with you_," he elaborated as he stepped even closer to me.

I felt trapped, with him in front of me and the door at my back. And yet, I didn't want to escape.

I wanted to be right here.

He leaned in and kissed me softly, a long, lingering, and yet unheated exploration.

It was innocent and yet promising.

"I want you," he whispered when he pulled back fractionally. "But I'm afraid that if we do this tonight, it'll change things."

"Because you will have seen me naked?" I asked with a slight smile.

I couldn't help it.

Humor was my shield, and right now my insides were a muddled mass of uncertainty because I felt something that I hadn't felt in…I don't know…_ever_.

I felt hope. I felt the promise of the possibility that we really might have something.

"Oh, I've seen you naked," he answered, recognizing my remark for what it was.

He kissed me again, keeping me from uttering my expected smartass response. Then he pulled away and ran his hand down the side of my face before stepping back in preparation to leave.

"In my dreams," he added with a cocky grin. Then he turned around and headed down the hall in the direction of his room.

"I look better in real life," I called out to him, although I was suddenly okay with this turn of events.

He was right.

Why spoil the thrill and excitement of a good romance by jumping into bed too quickly?

He turned back around, now walking backwards down the hall, and gave me a wink.

"I have no doubt that you do."

TBC...


	53. Chapter 53

**Logan POV**

* * *

We spent the afternoon documenting the details of the phone records of Candi Ayers.

It was tedious, mind-numbing work.

But we got through it.

Although it did help when we got a nice, rejuvenating phone call from Alex, who gave us the word that all was right with the world in Denver.

And they'd be home tomorrow.

So we redoubled our efforts, and by ten o'clock, we felt confident in our ability to dismiss the threat.

"There's nothing here," I stated as I pushed my chair back from the table. "No one that Candi called has a record or is suspicious and no one that _they_ called has a record or is suspicious."

"I agree," Lupo said. "I guess it's safe to say that the hit request never went through."

We were sitting around Lupo's kitchen where we'd been since five o'clock.

That was when Ross had kicked us out of 1PP, ostensibly to go home and get some rest after our long flight and late night from yesterday.

But instead of going home, we'd congregated here.

Rest could wait until after we were sure that Alex was going be okay.

Of course, we weren't fooling anybody. An hour later, Ross had shown up with Liz and a few pizzas, and so the five of us had continued to work.

"I'm sorry, Cap," Lupo continued.

"What are you sorry for?"

"You told me twelve hours ago that this thing was wrapped up. I should've listened to you. I should've let it go."

"There's nothing wrong with trusting your gut. More often than not, it'll steer you in the right direction," Ross said. "You were right to double-check."

Carolyn started gathering the papers into stacks, but Lupo waved her off.

"Don't worry about it. I'll clean up the mess. You guys go home and get some sleep."

"So where's your blonde tonight?" I asked him.

"She's…um…she's…"

"Don't tell me. She's already seen the error of her ways," I joked.

And I only joked about it because I was sure that it wasn't true. He had too much happiness on his face to have been recently dumped.

"She's home packing," he said finally, giving me a triumphant smile.

"For a trip?" Carolyn asked, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Where's she going?"

"She's moving," he replied.

"Where?"

"Here."

"But then where will you live?" Liz asked, getting in on the teasing.

Lupo stared at her for a moment, thoroughly nonplussed.

"Here," he stated. "We're going to live _together_."

I couldn't help but laugh. He was so smart and yet so clueless.

"Ignore them, Detective," Ross said with a shake of his head. "Come on, Liz. It sounds like Lupo has a busy weekend ahead of him."

"Tomorrow night," I said. "The Gorens will be back early afternoon. We'll all meet for dinner."

"Another debriefing?" Ross asked.

"I think there's one in order," Carolyn agreed.

"Only if you're going to tell us about Rio," Liz said.

"Oh, the stories I can tell," Carolyn answered with a grin.

"We'll be there," Ross said, and then he and Liz headed for the door. Me and Carolyn were right behind them.

"You guys, too, right?" I asked Lupo as Ross opened the door.

"Tomorrow night," he confirmed. "Six o'clock."

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

It felt great to be back in New York. I might complain about it from time to time, but it's home. And it's always nice to get back home.

We parted ways with John when we got a cab outside of the airport.

He was going to stay the night in a Manhattan hotel because he knew that he needed to catch up with Mike and Carolyn.

Apparently he'd been avoiding talking to Mike because he wanted to see him in person to cop to hiding the investigation from him. I'd assured him that Logan was long-since over that, but I appreciated that John wanted to do things the right way.

He'd been kind of in a fog for the flight east. I wondered how much of it was shell-shock from the past week's events versus how much was Mary.

Rocco had made the flight to Denver and back today, so John had sent him on home to Atlantic City with Rex to get the dog settled in John's penthouse.

So Alex and I went home, and then two hours later, we headed for McNally's.

Everyone else was already there when we arrived, and I mean everyone.

The Logans, Ross and Rodgers, Lupo and Connie, John, and even Bernard.

It amazed me that our last fall's little booth for four had evolved into a full-blown table for ten.

"I bet you never thought this many people would like you at one time, did you?" Alex teased as we headed for the back table.

"They don't," I replied with a grin. "They like you."

She nudged me with her hip as we crossed the last bit of distance where we were then met enthusiastically by Mike and Carolyn.

"You know, it's really great to be the one _not_ beat up for once," Mike joked as he looked pointedly from John to Lupo to me.

And I have to say, I looked the best of the three of us by far, with only the cut along the side of my face, but still…Mike was right.

It was usually him with the bruises.

"That's because it's tough to get into a fight when you're soaking up the sun on the beach," Liz told him.

"Now tell me again exactly where you kept that cell phone?" Alex teased.

"Yeah, yeah," he said dismissively as we all sat down. "I want to hear about Denver."

So the three of us – me, Alex, and John – filled everyone in on all that had transpired over the past four days.

Amazingly, or not considering the intelligence of our colleagues, no one was too surprised to learn that Heidi was alive. But everyone was very impressed by the clean-up job we'd done out there.

"So no more mile high," Liz mused. "I wonder if they'll still call it the Mile High City?"

"I'm not sure the drugs were the source of the nickname, Doc," Bernard said with a laugh.

"Your turn," I told Lupo. "What happened here? What's going on with the Stoat thing?"

It was insane the amount of work that Stoat had created for Lupo and Bernard.

It was also humbling to realize how hard they'd all worked this week just to make sure the threat was negated before we got back home.

"What happened with April?" I asked.

"Cutter said that he'd recommend a suspended sentence for the larceny charges," Lupo said.

"What about the drugs?" Carolyn asked.

"What drugs?" Bernard retorted with an innocent grin. I looked at Ross, but he just shrugged.

They were going to look the other way on the marijuana charge? I mean, I understood their motivation, but still…_Ross_ was going to look away?

Who was this man and what had he done with our old boss?

"And," Lupo continued. "I talked April into coming clean with her mom. She doesn't need to spend what little time her mom has left, sneaking around and working in a place like that."

"So all's well that ends well, huh?" Mike remarked.

"Maybe," Alex agreed. Then she looked to Lupo. "What about that favor you did for me? How's that going?"

"Oh that," he replied with a smile. "Well, you know how busy the ADAs have been lately."

"Yeah…"

"His bail hearing got postponed until Monday," Connie told us.

"So you're saying he's still in lock up?" I asked. This was better than I could've hoped. Connie nodded at me enthusiastically.

"It's possible that I had some help with the paperwork. Of course, come Monday I'll either need her statement or I'll have to drop the charges."

"I know. But the weekend in jail is great," Alex said. "Thank you."

"What are we talking about? Who's bail hearing? What favor?" Mike asked.

I watched Alex as she looked around the table at the number of faces who were looking expectantly at her.

These people were all family.

And half of them already knew anyway, so I wasn't surprised when she told the story of Cathy and Travis.

No irrelevant personal details, of course, but the nuts and bolts of what had happened.

"Maybe when he gets out, we'll pay him a visit, huh Bobby?" Mike said when she'd finished.

"You read my mind," I replied.

"Do I have to say it?" Ross asked as he looked back and forth between me and Mike.

"What?" Mike asked him innocently.

"Don't call me to bail you out," he said. His tone was that of long suffering, but he had a smirk on his face.

"That's right," Connie said with a smile. "Don't call him. Call me."

The dinner gathering lasted nearly four hours and was a lot of fun.

The relief of finishing a case, the camaraderie, the lack of hit threat, and the fact that Travis was behind bars – everything combined to put me in a wonderfully relaxed mood.

Alex, too, I guess because when we finally arrived back at our building, she insisted that we take the stairs.

"Aren't you tired?" I asked her as I followed her into the stairwell.

"Not at all, old man. Come on."

As was the norm with us, Alex walked ahead while I trailed along behind.

But I wasn't too far back. I stayed perfectly at eye-level with one of her finer attributes.

When she rounded the fourth-floor landing and continued up the stairs, I didn't ask.

There was only one other place that she would be going.

She opened up the door to the roof and led the way out into the frozen winter garden.

"Feeling like some fresh air tonight?" I asked her as I wrapped my arm around her to help stave off the chill.

"I'm thinking that I owe you," she replied cryptically.

"Owe me what?"

"Well, I did promise to make you a bona fide member of the mile high club."

"So it didn't work out this time," I said nonchalantly. "Now that we know someone with his own plane, I'm sure it'll just be a matter of time."

"True. But I promised," she said again. "It's just that with John on the plane, it would've been so obvious for us to go into the bathroom together, and I just…I don't know."

"I know," I said quickly as I put both arms around her and pulled her close. "That's why I didn't even bring it up. It just wasn't the right timing. Besides, you…"

I trailed off before I mentioned her bruises. I didn't want to make her mad by bringing it up again, but I really was worried about being too rough with her.

"Well, I was thinking," she said, ignoring my half-formed sentence. She put her hands inside my coat and ran them up the front of my shirt. "That, until we get another opportunity for that, maybe you'd like to join the eight-story high club."

Her words sent an intense shot of arousal through me. The idea that she'd been thinking about this, planning this, just to please me…

"It's awfully cold out here," I argued half-heartedly. It was hard to even think straight, much less argue, as her hands stroked back down my chest, but this time didn't stop at my belt.

Instead, she continued southward, increasing the pressure as she ran her fingers down over the length of me.

And of course, I was already hard. I had been since I'd realized her intent for coming up here.

She gazed up at me with a challenging expression.

"Then warm me up."

"Alex…" I moaned as she pulled down my zipper and slipped her hand inside. "We really shouldn't…"

"You're not going to hurt me," she whispered, of course knowing the exact cause of my hesitation.

And then she pulled my head down to hers and kissed me while her hand continued the perfect mix of alternating hard and soft pressure.

She was still on the outside of my boxers, and I suddenly wanted nothing more than to feel her skin on mine.

I _needed _to feel her hand directly on me.

Without breaking our kiss, I reached my hand down and guided hers to where I wanted it to be.

The rush of desire that flooded me at the contact had me mindless of our surroundings, mindless of my previous misgivings.

I wrapped my arms around her again and started walking her backwards until we were standing in front of a bench.

"That's why you wore a dress tonight," I murmured as I kissed around to her ear. "You thought about this before we even left the house."

"I've been thinking about this since this afternoon on the plane," she admitted. My need went from frantic to desperate at the sound of her confession.

I couldn't wait any longer.

I sat down on the bench and pulled her down so that she straddled my lap.

I ran my hands up her legs, loving the feel of the tight muscles and smooth skin. I wanted to feel more, but I would take what I could get at the moment.

Because I had to admit that this was exhilarating.

We were on the roof of our building, a place where any one of the hundreds of tenants could stumble onto at any time.

And it was thirty degrees outside but yet in our own little cocoon of trench coats, it was heated beyond belief.

The only remaining fabric between us was the slight swatch of silk.

And it was no match for me.

In seconds, the silk was replaced by my hand, and then immediately, roughly, and without preamble, she settled down onto me.

Our combined groans probably echoed down onto the streets below.

And knowing Alex, by the time we finished, we'd probably have an auditory audience awaiting us down on the street.

"Do it hard," she ordered in a hushed tone when I started a slow, easy pace.

And of course, the rational part of my brain understood her motivation.

_I would never hurt her. _

And a few bruises were a pittance in comparison to what might've happened if I hadn't done what I did.

She understood that. I just had to get it through _my_ thick head.

So as much as I hated the knowledge that I'd marred her lovely skin, I had to get over it.

Because there was a demand on the table.

A request.

A need.

And I wasn't about to deny Alex anything.

TBC...


	54. Chapter 54

**Lupo POV**

* * *

Connie and I got home to a messy apartment.

There were boxes everywhere, but the sight of all of those boxes made me happier than I'd been in a long time.

Because they were filled with _her _stuff and now that stuff belonged _here_.

We'd spent most of Saturday cleaning out her old place and then hauling everything over here.

Tomorrow we'd get started assimilating her things with mine, and then on Monday we could get her place listed.

After a brief glance into the living room, I went into the kitchen and sat down at the table. The sofa was currently occupied with more of her things. I wasn't exactly sure how many pairs of shoes an ADA needed, but like I said…I wasn't going to complain.

Connie followed me into the kitchen and sat down next to me with a contented sigh.

"Dinner was nice, huh?" she asked.

"Yeah, it was," I agreed.

"I like them. They're a lot of fun," she said as she glanced at last night's paperwork that was still strewn across the table.

The sight of some of those high heels she had in her possession had my feet aching in sympathy, so I pulled her feet into my lap and began rubbing the soles while she mindlessly flipped through some of the pages.

"Agnes Doyle," she mused softly as she closed her eyes in appreciation of my ministrations. "I know that name."

"Really? She doesn't have a record."

"I'm sure I've heard it," she stated. She opened her eyes and turned her head to the side to look at me. "It has something to do with a new case?"

"No, these are all of Candi's records," I told her. "I never cleaned up the mess from where we finished up the phone tree last night."

But now I was a little concerned. Connie had a head for names. If the name rang a bell, then there was a reason for it, and I didn't want anyone on Candi's call sheet to be someone Connie might know.

"You know Agnes Doyle?" I pushed.

"I…yeah, I know I do. Hang on."

She put her feet down onto the floor and pulled out her cell phone.

"Mike, it's Connie," she said once her boss answered her call. "Agnes Doyle."

I waited, with every nerve on alert, while she listened.

"Can you check that for me?" she asked sharply. "Okay, thanks."

She hung up and looked at me.

"Agnes is the aunt of a guy we locked up three years ago for attempted murder. Shane Derk."

"Okay. Not good, but if he's in prison…"

"That's what we're not sure about. Mike thinks that he might've gotten paroled recently. He's checking on it. Did you find any other reason why Candi might be associated with Agnes?"

"No," I admitted. "She's seventy-two. We didn't thoroughly vet her. Her records show that she lives alone."

"Yeah, well she did while he was in prison."

"I'm going to check in with Bobby," I said. "I don't like this."

I called Bobby's cell but he didn't answer.

So then I tried Alex. Nothing.

Connie's phone rang as I was leaving a message on Alex's phone.

"Rubirosa," she answered.

"What? When? Are you sure? Okay. Thanks."

"What?" I asked warily when she hung up.

"Derk was paroled three days ago. He was incarcerated on the same wing as Stoat."

"Shit!" I yelled out in frustration as I grabbed my keys. "I'm going over there. Neither of them is answering their phone."

"Call Logan," Connie said as she pulled on her coat. "He's closer. Or better yet, I'll call while you drive."

We hurried down to the car while I tried to calm myself.

Just because the guy was on parole, that didn't mean he was going to go straight over to kill Alex.

Hell, it didn't even mean that he was _going _to try to kill her. But then why would Candi have been talking to Agnes?

Shit, I knew that this case wasn't over.

I should've trusted my gut. I should've kept looking.

But Candi didn't still have the ten grand for payment.

If Derk was the potential killer-for-hire, would he even go through with it without payment?

Or had Candi bluffed him into believing that he would get paid?

Much like she'd bluffed us into believing that Testarossa was the only hit.

"Logan, it's Connie," she said into the phone as I pulled away from the curb. "How fast can you get to Bobby's place?"

I listened while she explained the situation, and then I mentally flogged myself again for not catching it sooner.

Hell, I hadn't caught it at all. Connie did.

"Call them again," I said to her once she'd hung up with Mike.

"He said he can be at their place in five minutes," she told me as she dialed.

"I'll be there in six," I stated as I flipped on the lights and siren. Then I couldn't keep myself from slamming my fist onto the dash and yelling out in frustration, "Shit!"

"Lupo, it's not your fault."

"Not my fault? This was my investigation! How could I miss that the old lady was the aunt of a convicted felon?" I shouted. And then I dropped my voice and muttered to myself, "Sloppy, sloppy detective work."

"Still no answer," she told me.

"Why the hell aren't they answering?" I asked rhetorically.

"Maybe they're…you know."

"Yeah, or maybe they're tied up in their apartment with a gun pointed at Alex's head."

**

* * *

**

Logan POV

When I saw Connie's number on my cell, I immediately got a bad feeling.

Because I'd just seen her, so why would she be calling?

And really, why would _she _be calling at all? Lupo was the one who usually made contact.

So within the three-second span that it took for me to look at the display, connect the call and then put the phone to my ear, I determined that something must have happened, and that Lupo was likely driving.

Which was why I had my keys in my hand and was headed for the car with Carolyn hot on my heels by the time I got off the phone.

"A guy in prison with Stoat?" Carolyn asked as I peeled away from the curb. "How did we miss that?"

"Different last name from the name on the call sheet. It was a little old lady who supposedly lived alone. There's no way we could've picked it up."

"And they're not answering?" she asked as she dialed her phone. "Nope, nothing."

I drove the ten blocks in remarkably little time, and I parked next to a fire hydrant in front of their building.

Together, we quickly and fluently made our way through the lobby. The elevator was sitting in the lobby, so I reached inside and hit the stop button, and then the two of us went into the stairwell.

All was quiet.

We had our weapons drawn as we entered the fourth floor hallway.

"The door's closed," Carolyn remarked as we approached their apartment.

"And locked," I added after touching the knob.

"That could be good or bad," she stated. "They got home and the killer was waiting for them…"

"Or they haven't gotten home yet."

"Or they're in here ignoring their phones."

"We have to go in," I said.

I hated to do it, but I couldn't run the risk of them being held inside against their will.

"I'll pick it," Carolyn said as she pulled a tool from her pocket.

How many guys can say that their wives happen to carry a lock-pick set with them on a regular basis?

Not many.

And why that turned me on, I'm not sure. But it did.

And ten seconds later, she had the door unlocked.

"No deadbolt," she whispered as she put the pick back into her pocket and pulled her weapon out again.

"So maybe not home," I concluded.

"Let's get it over with," she said, and then she quietly eased the door open.

The apartment was dark and silent.

I motioned for Carolyn to check down the hall while I went through the living room and kitchen.

"Clear," I said in a normal tone of voice as I headed down the hall.

There was no sign that they'd been back after dinner.

Halfway down the hall, I heard a gasp coming from the bedroom. I quickly crossed the last ten steps to the bedroom with my gun at the ready.

I whipped through the doorway, and there stood Carolyn in the master bathroom.

With a man behind her and a gun to her head.

**

* * *

**

Alex POV

We sat on the roof for awhile after we finished. I didn't want to move, and it didn't seem like Bobby was in any hurry either.

The encounter had been good for him.

I mean, obviously it was good for me.

With him, it was _always_ good for me. He was so selfless and intuitive and giving…not to mention sexy as hell with the stamina of a man half his age.

But he was also prone to moments of self-flagellation, and the fact that he'd bruised me was still weighing heavily on his mind.

Which was why I'd spurred him on into being a little rougher. I didn't just want to make love tonight.

I wanted to remind him that I wouldn't break.

It was strangely contradictory to what I knew of my sister's relationship, and I couldn't help but think about that briefly as I rested against Bobby's chest, both of us still breathing heavily.

Cathy's boyfriend had hit her, had hurt her intentionally and now felt the need to slough off the blame as though he'd done nothing wrong.

Bobby had protected me, and in the process caused a few bruises, and yet he was beating himself up over it. He was upset with himself for not finding a better way to shield me from an explosion.

Maybe I needed to share that tidbit with Cathy. Maybe she needed to realize the way a real man should be rather than think she had to tolerate someone like Travis.

"Are you okay?" Bobby whispered into my hair.

"I am so much better than okay," I replied contentedly.

"Are you cold?"

"No," I said, because we'd generated quite a bit of body heat that was trapped nicely inside our cocoon of coats. "I don't think I want to get up."

"I could carry you back downstairs," he offered, and even without looking I could tell that he was smiling.

"Over my dead body," I answered, finally pulling back. I kissed him again before reluctantly getting up and straightening my clothes.

"Let's go down and get into bed. And we don't even have to set the alarm," he reminded me with a waggle of his eyebrows. "Although I should probably check my phone. I'm pretty sure it was buzzing earlier."

"Mine, too," I said, but I took his hand instead of letting him pull it out of his pocket. "But it'll wait."

And I didn't mean wait forever, but at least until we got back downstairs. I was still enjoying the lingering effects of the afterglow.

Together we walked down the four flights, and then opened the door into the hall.

The sight of Lupo standing in our open doorway with his gun drawn threw me into full alert. Bobby and I both pulled our weapons and hustled down the hall.

"What's going on?" I whispered. He looked at us in confusion, and then looked inside again.

"Where have you two been?"

"Upstairs."

"You weren't answering your phones."

"So you come over here and break into our apartment?"

"We found a connection to a potential killer-for-hire," he stated.

"Who's inside?"

"I guess Mike and Carolyn. I just got here and found the door left open, but I haven't heard any sound."

The three of us shifted our focus to the interior of the apartment.

All of the lights were off, just as we'd left it.

All except one.

There was a slight glow coming from the bedroom, which meant that the bathroom light was on.

**

* * *

**

Logan POV

"You need to let her go, Derk," I said calmly.

I wasn't sure that I was looking at Shane Derk, but who else could it be?

Someone else we'd missed?

Or someone else who happened to break into the Gorens' apartment?

"I only came here to kill one, but I'll do two," he said with a shrug.

"You came here to kill Alex Goren," I told him.

"Yeah."

"Didn't you get a picture? Because that's not her."

Shane faltered slightly.

"Don't fuck with me, man."

"Why? What are you going to do? Kill us?" I asked him smartly as I made eye contact with Carolyn.

She was calm, as I'd expected.

She'd have her moment of undoing later, but in a moment of crisis, she was always rock solid.

"You'd better shoot me first then," I said.

"Why? You weren't the one I was hired to kill."

"Derk," I said with a shake of my head. "There are so many things wrong with that statement. She's not the one you were hired to kill either. And you aren't getting paid. The police has the ten grand Candi was supposed to pay you."

"She is the one!" Derk insisted. "Candi followed you guys home from work! She told my aunt. This is the place."

"This is the place. We're not the people," Carolyn said. "You got the phone, right? The cell phone from Stoat with the information on it?"

"Yeah, but I traded it for some smokes," he admitted.

Great. A genius assassin.

"Put the gun down. You're violating your parole, but you'll only get a little bit more time if you put the gun down now. Otherwise, you're going back for life."

"I don't care. I like it better on the inside anyway."

"Okay," I said. "Fine. Shoot me."

"What?"

"Shoot me. Then you can shoot her."

And it probably made me sound crazy, but I needed him to quit pointing that gun at her head. He was obviously not the sharpest knife in the drawer, and I didn't want to risk my wife's life on the idea that Derk wouldn't accidentally pull the trigger.

"Shane," I said loudly. "Shoot me."

**

* * *

**

Bobby POV

The three of us eased down the hallway.

It was a tough thing, going from the blissful contentedness of being post-orgasmic to suddenly conducting an intense search through our apartment where our friends were most likely being held by an armed killer.

But I'm disciplined.

And lives were at risk.

I wasn't going to let Mike or Carolyn down.

"Shane! Shoot me," we heard Mike say through the open doorway. He must have been standing off to the left, so I was guessing that the others were in the bathroom.

"Shane Derk," Lupo whispered. "That's the guy."

"What's his deal?"

"He did time for attempted murder," he said. "What's the layout?"

"Bathroom's to the left," Alex answered.

"Does Logan know you're here?" I asked Lupo.

"I called him. He knows I was on my way at least."

_Think, Bobby_.

I could picture the scenario.

Carolyn must have been clearing this end of the apartment. Somehow, the killer got the drop on her, and now he was holding her at gunpoint. Logan was bargaining because he knew that if Derk moved the gun away from Carolyn then he could get a shot off.

There were a few ways that this could play out and most of them ended badly.

"Let me go in first," Alex said.

"What? No," I said firmly. "Absolutely not."

"Bobby…"

"You're the target," I whispered harshly. She had completely lost her mind if she thought that she was going to be the first one in that bedroom.

"No, she's right," Lupo said. And every nice thought I'd had about him over the course of the past week flew out of the window.

"No she's not," I countered, glaring at him.

"_She's_ going in," Alex said in annoyance. "He'll aim at me and then one of you two can take him out."

"What if he actually gets a shot off?" I asked her in trepidation.

"He won't," she said confidently. "You won't let him. Right?"

"Come on, Derk," Mike was saying. "If you shoot her first, then I'll kill you. You have to shoot me. I'm the one with the weapon."

"Put your gun down or I'll shoot her right now," Derk argued. "I mean it, man. I've got nothing to lose."

"Okay," Mike agreed. "Settle down."

"We're out of time," Alex said sharply. "Let's do this."

Before I could argue, she put her weapon in her holster and stepped into the bedroom.

"Hey, Shane. I think you're looking for me, right?"

"Alex, get out of here," Mike said.

"Alex? Alex Goren?" Derk asked.

"That's right," Alex agreed. "See? That's my picture there on the dresser."

Lupo and I were pressed up against the wall in the hall so that Derk wouldn't see us, but that meant that I couldn't see him either.

But I could see Alex. She was nodding, telling me that the situation was just as I'd guessed.

There was silence for a minute, and I watched as Alex slyly held out four fingers next to her thigh.

Then she withdrew one.

She was counting down for us.

Two fingers.

One.

As she pulled her last finger into her clenched fist, Lupo and I burst into the bedroom.

I zeroed in on Derk as he stood wavering between pointing his gun at Mike or Alex.

Carolyn was still in his grasp and was too close for my liking, but I couldn't run the risk of letting him get a shot off, so I fired. And so did Lupo.

Derk fell backwards into the bathroom, taking Carolyn down with him. She squirmed from his hold as he yelled and cursed. Blood poured from his right shoulder, and it looked as though Lupo and I had both caught him in roughly the same spot.

He'd dropped the gun upon impact of the bullets, so Carolyn grabbed it and scrambled away from him and into the bedroom.

"Well, that went well," Alex said as she approached Derk, her weapon drawn once again. "Stoat hired you to kill me? You know that he's dead, right? And that there's no money left?"

"Not to mention the fact that you didn't really come through now, did you?" Lupo asked him drolly as he knelt next to him to assess the damage.

"Just take me back to jail," Derk moaned.

And I could perfectly understand why he would find jail preferable to his current predicament as he lay bleeding on my bathroom rug with five guns pointed at him.

About forty-five minutes later, that's exactly where he was headed. Via the hospital I'm sure, but ultimately, he was on his way back to jail.

"Where the hell were you guys?" Mike asked as he stood with his arm around Carolyn. "You weren't answering your phones."

Ross had just cleared out, after having been brought up to speed. We'd all promised to come in to make our statements on Monday morning, but he didn't look all that concerned.

The fact that the guy was in our apartment when it happened pretty much took the guesswork out of the situation.

"So Lupo says that you made the catch," I said to Connie, ignoring Mike's question.

"I just happened to see the name," she deflected. "I recognized it, and then checked with Cutter."

"Well, thank you," Alex told her. "We owe you."

"Do you guys really even keep track anymore?" Lupo teased. "Of who owes who, I mean?"

"Who owes whom," I corrected with a grin. "And no, not really."

"We all just look out for each other," Carolyn added. "There's no need to keep score."

"That's good," Lupo said. "Because as much trouble as you guys get into, I'm not sure if anyone can count that high."

After a few more minutes, we said our goodbyes, and we were finally alone again.

In our apartment with the bloody bathroom and the mud-tracked footprints of the arresting officers.

And the smell of gun powder.

And the picked door lock.

I felt nonplussed and unsure of myself. It had been a lame threat at best, but still a threat and it had thrown me.

"Roosevelt?" I asked her as we stood looking around.

She turned to me with a smile and a look that went straight to my groin.

She wasn't upset or put out at the idea of having to stay in a hotel again. She just looked relieved that this was one more danger that was now behind us.

How was it possible that this one woman was so courageous, so intelligent, so steadfast, so damn beautiful…and yet be so in love with me?

Because she was. All of those things.

It was one of the great mysteries of life.

She grabbed me by the front of the shirt and went up on her toes to kiss me.

"You read my mind."

**The End**

**A/N: Hope you all enjoyed the ride! Assuming anyone is still reading, I mean. :) **

**Mitzvahgirl, thank you very much for your tireless support and endless supply of encouragement. Without you, I probably would've crashed and burned months ago.**


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